Time Passes
by alyssianagrace
Summary: Sometimes, you'll learn about the hard things that your parents try to keep from you. They'll hold you close and whisper sweet nothings. But when one of the hard things hits a little too close to home, your mum will decide it's time for you to leave. And you'll go, leaving your dad all alone. But you're a Time Lord, and Time Lords find all sorts of trouble. And this is my story.
1. Chapter 1: Changes

Chapter One- Changes

When I was born, my mum was Rose Tyler, and my dad was Doctor number ten (you'll understand why I differentiate later). They took off travelling and built a little house in the rural areas of Oregon, in the States, to stay until I was 'old enough to help save the world,' as she put it. Because, really, a seven-day-old baby against a bunch of Daleks? Bad idea. _Very_ bad idea. Especially a baby who's parents are the Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf.

Some days we spent in the house, some days in the TARDIS, which was parked inside in a little closet built just for her. The house was big and spacious, with plenty of room to run around both out of doors and in them.

At age five, I took my first trip in the TARDIS. She called me 'little cub,' and promised to take care of me. We went to Cardiff, Wales.

"A safe enough place for her first trip, wouldn't you say, Rose?" Dad turned to her.

"I'd say so, Doctor," Mummy smiled back. "Come on, Lyra, let's go." She walked over to me and undid my car seat that Daddy fastened to the pilot seat.

Abruptly, I heard someone pounding on the doors, and I hid behind my mother.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she cooed at me, prying my hands off so she could answer the door.

_Don't be scared, Little Cub. _

I listened to my mum and the TARDIS, and tried my hardest to be calm.

"Jack!" Mummy smiled at the visitor and hugged him. "I thought you were dead!"

"I could say the same, Rosie!" the stranger called her, and then kissed her on the lips! "Has Canary Wharf happened yet?"

"The what?" she asked.

"Never mind. Hey, Doctor! Looking good!" The man kissed my daddy, too! How weird!

"Jack, good to see you," Dad said, distracted from the kiss, I guessed. He wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"And who is this little beauty?" 'Jack' bent down to my level.

"Go on, sweetheart, introduce yourself," Mum prompted. "It's okay."

I remember giving her and Dad pleading looks, but they insisted, so I did what they said and introduced myself as Lyra.

Lyra's my nickname. I have a Time Lord name, and only my parents and future spouse are supposed to know it. There's a lot of power in a name, you know.

"Hi, Lyra. I'm Jack."

"Lyra is our daughter," Mum explained.

"I _knew_ you two were together!" Jack exclaimed. "Hey, I should be 'Uncle' Jack. I like that. Call me 'Uncle Jack', kiddo," he mussed my hair.

"Don't do that, Uncle Jack," I fixed my hair, making him laugh.

"C'mon, let's go out for chips. I'll buy, since you guys never have any money."

"We have money!" Mum shoved him over.

"Show me the money then!"

Uncle Jack treated us to chips and the adults talked and caught up. He was the first person I met that wasn't my mum or dad. After chips, we went to a place called Torchwood, where he worked. Then, I met Ianto Jones, Dr Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, and Suzie Costello.

My new uncle gave me a card with some numbers on it, and told me to call whenever I needed.

* * *

I was seven when Canary Wharf happened. It was also my first run-in with a Dalek.

My mum was trapped in the parallel universe, and it was days before my dad finally coaxed me out of my room.

I miss her.

* * *

Donna was nice enough, and so was Martha. I didn't particularly care for the medical student, though. It seemed like Dad was trying to replace Mum, but I knew he wasn't. He sealed off her old room (which the TARDIS kept) and got livid when anyone tried to go in, me excluded. Dad and me spent most of our time in there.

* * *

I'm sitting in the interrogation room, handcuffed to the table, when he comes in. FBI, I think, considering the monkey suit. But what would the FBI want with me?

"So, what name did you give the cops?" FBI asks me, sitting down at the other side of the table.

"Sara Smith," I answer.

"And, what, exactly, are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, getting pissed, pinching cars, and looking for a good shag."

"Sorry, gorgeous, I don't think I'm getting your meanings."

"Well, Agent Scully, pissed means drunk, pinching means stealing, and shag means fuck," I explain bluntly.

"Well, British Beauty, you want out of this dump or not?"

"You serious?"

"As a heart attack."

I study the serious look on his face. "Rassilon, you're not joking," I realize.

"I'm not familiar with that phrase, either."

"Forget that, how are you going to get me out of here without twisting their knickers?"

"Easy. I take you into FBI custody and they deal with it." He uncuffs me from the table and recuffs my hands behind my back.

"Is that truly necessary?"

"You want out of here, or not?"

He keeps one hand on my arm and walks me out of the interrogation room.

* * *

I rifle through my purse to make sure those cops didn't steal anything during the car ride to...

"Where are you taking me?"

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota," the 'FBI' agent answers.

"What's your name?"

"What's yours?" he counters. "'Cause, while Sara Smith rolls off the tongue, I'm pretty sure it ain't yours."

I hesitate answering, and instead make sure I have my red sonic screwdriver and psychic paper. Which, thankfully, I do, along with my iPhone 7C (specially ordered TARDIS blue) and my iPod touch 6; a few thousand dollars in several different Earth currencies, clothes, toiletries, emergency supplies (such as a tent, matches, tea kettle, water, mugs, tea bags, lumps of sugar, rescue blanket, rain jacket, sleeping bag, tarps, umbrella, food rations, a few torches with batteries), pillows, and my cozy blanket that smells like home, and Time.

What can I say? My purse is transcendentally dimensional, a gift for my fifteenth birthday from my Uncle Jack. On the outside, it's about as big as an over-the-shoulder handbag. But on the inside, think supermarket. Okay, maybe not a supermarket. Maybe a cute little shop?

"My name is Hazel," I finally tell him. "But my last name is real."

"Hazel Smith?"

"Yeah. What about yours?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester, nice to meecha."

"Nice to meet you, too," I shake the proffered hand, which he places back on the wheel. "Hope you don't mind if I take a quick kip."

"'Kip'?"

"I think Americans refer to it as a 'dognap'? 'Catnap'? One of the two."

"Catnap, yeah. And that's fine. We'll be there in around eight hours, six if I push it."

The last thing I hear is 'sweet dreams'.

* * *

I wake up a few hours later to hear 'Firefly' by Breaking Benjamin playing on the radio.

"Hey, this song is good," I say groggily, wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "Have a good nap?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I like your car, it's very comfortable."

"Thanks, built her myself. We're almost there; got someone who wants to see you. Called me to come get you, actually."

"I figured you weren't with the government."

"Nah," he laughs once. "Government's too stiff. Plus, most of 'em have to wear those damn monkey suits."

I laugh, too. "Do you impersonate the FBI a lot for your job?"

"That's not the only one you have to wear the monkey suit for. Insurance people, for one." He pulls into an all-too-familiar gravel driveway and puts the car in park. "We're here," Dean says, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his car door.

"Trust me, I know exactly where we are," I give him a quick tongue-in-teeth grin (like Mum used to do), grab my bag, and head inside. "Oi, Singer!"

"Quiet down, ya Brit brat, we heard ya coming from a mile away!"

"You did _not_, you overgrown child!" I laugh, giving my uncle a hug. "How long's it been, a few weeks? Nothing longer than a month, I hope."

"Try ten years, kiddo. You haven't changed a bit."

"You're kidding! What year is it?"

"November 16th, 2008. How far did your old man overshoot by?"

"He's not even here, Mum kicked me out about a week ago. And I need a beer if I'm gonna tell you that story."

I walk into the kitchen, ignoring the other man sitting on the couch, and snag a beer. I take a swig and spit it in the sink.

"God, where are the ones with_out_ the holy water, Uncle Bobby?"

"Garage, now what the hell happened?"

Grabbing a good beer (without that holy water crap, tastes like horse piss), I take a huge swig of it and then set it on the side table, digging around in my bag.

"Long story short, a Weeping Angel got Amy and Rory in 2012, sent them back in time to Manhattan 1935, and we can't go get them because that place in that time is a weak spot. Blow up the whole universe if we tried. Plus, we saw their gravestone. So now my dad's throwing a fit and has gone into one of his self-destruction moods, and my mum said, "Go travel the Earth. I'll pick you up in a year," kicked me out of the TARDIS, and swanned off. Dropped me off right in the middle of a robbery, she did. I got arrested by human police! Then I called Uncle Jack, he called you, Deanie-boy over there picked me up, and here I am.

"Gonna need something stronger than this; have any hypervodka?"

"What's hypervodka?"

"Think patron, whiskey, vodka, and bourbon times fifty in an itty bitty shot glass. I might have a bottle in my bag," I dig around, producing a bottle after a few seconds, along with a stack of shot glasses. "Ah, here we go!"

"Sorry, who are you?" the tall man I don't know interrupts.

"Hazel Smith, Bobby's niece for all intents and purposes. And you are?"

"Sam Winchester."

"Nice to meet you," I throw back a shot of hypervodka. "Mmm, that's good. Who wants?"

I pour another shot, which Dean takes, sitting on the couch next to his brother and throws it back.

"It burns, doesn't it?" I chuckle as he sputters.

"Just a bit, yeah," he chuckles a bit.

"So! What have I missed? Last time I was on this planet was 2007? '06?"

"Some demon bitch killed Rumsfeld," Uncle Bobby says.

"_Please_ tell me someone killed her back. I liked that dog!"

"Yeah, she's toast," Dean tells me.

"Thank God," I close my eyes and throw my head back against the sofa.

* * *

_17.11.2008 _

_Uncle Bobby's, Sioux Falls, South Dakota, the States, Earth _

_I'd forgotten how hot Uncle Bobby's can be. It's about 25 degrees Celsius right now, at six in the morning. Given, I'm on his roof, but even on the ground it's warm. _

_It's been about a week (six days) for me since Grandmum Amy and Granddad Rory got taken back in time by a Weeping Angel, and I still miss them. Dad says he can't take the TARDIS to Manhattan in that point in time, and if Mum and I try with our vortex manipulators, we'll rip a massive hole in the universe (which is very, very not good). But based on the afterword in the Melody Malone book, they're both okay and together, which is what's most important, I guess. I'd rather they be happy instead of me. _

_A few hours ago, after Mum dropped me off, I met a man called Dean Winchester. He posed as a FBI agent and busted me out of the jail I was being held in for robbery. He took me to Uncle Bobby's, and then I met his younger brother, Sam. Dean calls him 'Sammy', which is so cute that, if he lets me, I might call him that, too. I don't think he will, though. _

_I also learned what they do, which is hunting. Not hunting as in elk, deer, and pig; but Hunting as in all the things that go bump in the night. Supernatural things. They also Hunt demons. I think it's weird, but then again, I'm living proof of weird. I have two hearts, for Rassilon's sake! _

"Can I help you?" I look at Dean, who has nearly climbed the ladder onto the roof. I close my journal and put it in my bag.

"It's nice out here," is all he says, climbing up onto the roof to lay next to me on the blanket. "Except for the damn mosquitoes." He smacks a spot on his arm, killing one.

He makes me laugh. Why is it so easy to be around him?

"You travel a lot, right?" I ask him, laying on my side so I face him.

"Yeah, Sammy and I are actually about to leave soon. He found a case in Rock Ridge, Colorado."

Silence falls as we watch the sunrise.

"Can you promise me you'll be careful?" I say after a few moments. "You _and_ Sam?"

He doesn't speak for a minute.

"Why don't you just come with us?" Dean offers eventually.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I _know_ I'd promised that I'd never publish anything before it's finished. I did. But this has been _begging_ to be published, just to see how many people want to read it. So, drop a review, even if it's to say you hate it! I'm almost done with chapter two (okay, more like half-way done), and will publish that as soon as I can. But updates might be few and far in between, or maybe as same as the next day, so be patient! Love you all!**

**alyssianagrace**

**14.7.2014**

**.:.**

**A/N2: Fixed some grammar-type stuff (no beta, and needed some inspiration lol). New chapter coming soon!**

**alyssianagrace**

**18.7.2014**


	2. Chapter 2: Terror part one (YF)

**Guys, omg, I got my first review, ever! Thanks muchly to **giddyfan**, you guys should go check out some of her stuff. She's writing her own SPN thing with her own ass-kicking OC, and, if I do say so myself (and I do), it's pretty cool. So, go check out her story, **Too Many Fantasies **(fanfiction s/10542079), part 3 of 3 (I think. Someone correct me if I'm wrong).**

**Sorry for taking FOREVER, sometimes chapters decide to be bitches, and so does life. This one is so long, I split it in two. Part two coming soon (I hope). Also, I decided to use my creative license *waves cut-out piece of cardboard with sharpie writing around*, so the dates are weird. Trust me, works better with that I have planned. Oh, and fyi, this is the episode Yellow Fever.**

**And, as always, the horrible disclaimer.**

**Anything that you recognize probably doesn't belong to me. Unless it does. 'Cause that would be amazing.**

**Love to you all!**

**alyssianagrace 24.7.2014**

* * *

Chapter Two- Terror part one (YF)

"Why don't you just come with us?" Dean offers.

"You serious?" I ask him with a small smile on my face.

"Sure, yeah." Dean rubs the back of his neck. "I talked to Sam and he said he didn't mind."

"I can go hunting with you?" my smile grows.

"Yeah. If you," he clears his throat, "if you want."

"I'd love to," I beam at him.

"Great," a small smile creeps up his face.

I fall back and watch the sun, the brilliant colours of red, orange, yellow, pink, and purple erupt through the sky.

"Dean! Pack your crap, let's go!" Sam shouts up from the ground.

"I'm _comin'_, ya whiny little bitch!" Dean replies, sitting up and brushing off his jeans. "You sure you wanna come with us?"

"Trust me, it's a _lot_ crazier back home," I stand up and shake my blanket out.

"And where is home?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I give him a tongue-in-teeth smile and jump off the roof. "Bobby! You got any of that sludge you Americans call coffee?"

"No, but I got that chai tea shit you left here last time you bothered to stop by!"

I punch him fondly in the arm and grab the chai tea powder from the cupboard inside in the kitchen. Wait a second, I _know_ where I can get some decent caffeine, and for free! I abandon the can of chai tea on the counter.

"Bobby! I'll be back in two seconds!" I pull my vortex manipulator out of my bag and enter my destination for Torchwood Hub, Cardiff, Wales.

* * *

I land right in the middle of the Hub, startling Tosh, who's working at her desk.

"Oops! Sorry, Tosh!" I apologize, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Where's Ianto, do you know? I need coffee."

"You came all the way here for his coffee?" she laughs.

"Of course! You've tasted it, Toshie!" I laugh with her.

"I think he and Jack are having a snog in the kitchen, so I wouldn't go in there, if I were you."

"I need caffeine, and I will get it. One way or the other. Oi, Jones!" I raise my voice to a shout and storm off towards the kitchen. "Quit eye-shagging my uncle and make me caffeine!"

Pressing my ear to the door, I hear laughter which quickly turns to breathy moans and lip smacking.

"Wankers!" I protest, causing more laughter. "Jack blooming Harkness, if any of your trousers are down, I will shoot you into next week! I'm coming in!"

I open the door and, to my contentment, Ianto is at the coffee maker and Jack is standing in the corner with a stupid grin on his face.

"Oi, wipe that stupid smile off your face."

"_Someone_ hasn't had their caffeine this morning!" my uncle pokes fun with his American accent. Nonetheless, I let him give me a hug and a peck on the cheek, which I reciprocate.

"I can't stay for long, Mum child-locked my vortex manipulator. Pain in the arse, let me tell you. The longest I can be here is five more minutes, otherwise it'll throw off my return."

"Why do you have to be back where you were immediately?" Ianto asks.

"Because I have two _gorgeously_ hot American boys waiting for me to go roadtripping with them," I smile. "And, coincidentally, they don't know about the whole 'Hey, I'm a freaking time-travelling alien' bit. So, yeah. Coffee?"

Ianto hands me a travel mug of iced caramel macchiato with a shot of whiskey (just the way I like it), and I give him a peck on the cheek.

"Bless you, love. Well, I'd best be on my way."

"_Don't_ shag the Americans!" Jack warns.

"_No_ promises." I give him a flirty smile and disappear from their eyes.

* * *

I land hard on the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" I curse. Honestly, I blame Jack. Somehow, someway, he messed with the vortex manipulator, I just know it. I brush myself off and stand up to two guns in my face.

"Sam. Dean. Haven't you heard that pointing a gun in a girl's face isn't going to get you any favours?"

"What are you?" Sam hisses at me.

"Oh. Great. I'm not a 'who', I'm a '_what_'. Way to make a girl feel special." I take a sip of my now Time-saturated caffeinated drink. "Bobby! If you could come control Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-trigger-happy here, that'd be great! I don't fancy getting shot today, ta!"

"You gotta learn how to work that vortex doo-hickey of yours, there, Hazel!" Bobby walks in and takes Sam and Dean's guns. "And as for you two idjits! You only point a gun at someone if they've stolen from you, tried to kill you, have black eyes, fangs, or wings. No black eyes," he shines a torch in my eyes, "no fangs," yanks my lips apart, "and no wings. She hasn't robbed ya blind, and hasn't tried to kill ya."

"Bobby, she appeared out of thin air after bein' gone for two hours!" Dean protests.

"Two _hours_? Bollocks! I am going to _murder_ Jack when I see him next!"

"Why, what'd he do _this_ time?"

"Screwed with my vortex manipulator, that's what!" I answer Bobby. I walk over to where my purse is sitting on a chair and start digging through the contents looking for my phone.

"What are you?" Dean repeats Sam's earlier question.

"I'm an alien with time and space travelling capabilities. Don't believe me? I don't care!" Pissed off, I tip my bag over and shake everything out onto the floor until my phone comes crashing down on top of the sonic pistol.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'alien'?" Sam asks.

"Yes, I did, now can you hold on a few ticks?" I dial Jack's number; it rings three times before he answers with a groggy,_ "Lo?"_

"Jack bloody Harkness, don't touch my fucking vortex manipulator, you fucking wanker!"

More awake, the sod starts laughing heartily.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny!"

_"It's frickin' _hilarious_ is what it is!" _

"You're a bastard, you know that?! I could've landed in some godforsaken ocean!"

_"And where _did_ you land?" _

"On my arse, you little bitch!"

That only causes him to laugh harder.

"Goddess, you're completely fucking hopeless, you know that?! Next time I see you, I'm going to launch a bullet into your fucking head!" And I hang up my phone and shove it in my shorts pocket next to my sonic screwdriver. Then I groan, and hit my head against the wall.

"Sorry about that. I'm good now."

"Alien," Sam repeats.

"Yep," I pop the P. "Twenty-five percent human, seventy-five percent Gallifreyan. Or, Time Lord. Time Lady? Time Lord. Yeah, I think it's Time Lord."

"If you're an alien, why are you here on Earth?" Dean asks.

"My mum, who's a half-breed, by the way, up and left me here and said she'd pick me up in a year. Not the first time she's done that, ditched me on a random planet. Earth is usually safer than the others, partly because it's classified as a Level Five planet by the Shadow Proclamation. The Shadow Proclamation is galactic law, you could say, and Level Five means that alien species can't just come and invade and enslave the human race. But it also means that any aliens that look for exile or safety that do come here have to look human, like I do, or wear a shimmer that disguises their outside and makes them appear human. You'd be surprised how many non-humans are hiding amongst you.

"And... I'd understand if you don't want me to go with you anymore."

"I'm not quite buying the whole 'alien' thing," Dean frowns at me.

"Dean, how could you _not_ buy it?" Sam looks at his older brother. "With all that we've seen?"

I sit on the table with my legs crossed, picking things that I hastily dumped on the floor earlier and shoving everything back in my bag.

"How do you fit all that into that tiny bag, anyway?" the younger Winchester asks, gesturing to the huge pile of assorted crap.

"Stick your hand in here and tell me if you can feel the bottom. It's not going to bite you," I assure him, holding the bag out. He hesitantly does what I say, going up to his wrist, but when he can't feel the bottom, sticks his arm all the way down until he can't stretch anymore.

"Where's the bottom of the bag?" he asks, pulling his arm out. I stick my head in to look.

"Oh, about thirty metres down, I would say."

"Thirty _metres_? That's like a hundred feet!"

I shrug. "Jack got it for me for my fifteenth birthday."

"How old's the bag, then, thirty?"

"Robert Steven Singer, shut up!" I laugh.

"What regeneration are you on now, ten, eleven?"

"_Third!_ My dad's on his eleventh."

"What about your mom?"

"Mum? Let me think..." Melody, Rose, Mels, River... "Her fourth. I think. I'll ask her next time I see her."

"Alien." Dean says sceptically.

"Yeah. Dad's one hundred percent Time Lord, Mum's half human half Time Lord, and then there's me."

"Can you prove it?"

"What, my bottomless bag isn't enough for you, Agent Scully?" I roll my eyes, an eye roll that Ianto would be proud of. "Here, give me your hands."

He gives me an 'are you for freaking real' look.

I touch my fingers to my palms twice. "Come on, you big child, just give me your hands."

Dean stays still, so I just grab his palms and place them under my hearts.

"What the _hell_?" he spits out, yanking his hands out of my grip.

"Two hearts, though the left one doesn't work as well as it should. Gets a bit better every time I regenerate."

"Just take her with you," Uncle Bobby finally orders. "She's not gonna kill ya in yer sleep. Hazel's one of the most diplomatic pain in the ass aliens you're ever gonna meet."

"Oi! I am not a pain in the arse!"

"You're right, but you're sure as hell annoyin', kid."

"I'm not a 'kid', Bobby," I protest, just like I always do.

"You're a kid, now shut up and get outta my house before I fill ya with buckshot." Yep, he says that every time, too.

"Jeez, love you too." I grab my purse and coffee and walk out of his house, sitting on the steps and wait for the boys so we can go.

* * *

The car ride is mostly silent, me sandwiched in between Dean in the driver's seat and Sam in the passenger seat, trying to look up information on the internet.

When Sam lets out a few curse words, I ask him if anything's wrong.

"Yeah, the stupid computer isn't connecting to the internet," he explains.

"Mind if I take a look at it?"

He hands me the laptop. "Can't do any more damage to it, I suppose."

I close the lid of it, slide the back off, pop the battery out, and sonic the part that receives and sends signals for about a minute, essentially boosting the internet connectivity. Then I slide the back panel back on and pop the battery in.

"Here you go. You'll never have to pay for internet again," I hand him the laptop. He opens it and powers it on.

"Universal roaming?"

"Mmm hmm. Anywhere in the universe that you go, you'll have a connection. I can do it to your phones, too, if you wanted."

"Maybe later, sunshine," Dean interrupts. "Sammy, how far out are we?"

"About eight more hours," he says after consulting a paper map. "Keep on this road until you hit exit number two-two-six."

Dean, just passing exit one-oh-nine, groans but keeps driving.

"Hey, one of you put in an AC/DC tape in."

"Did he just say 'tape'?" I ask Sam.

"'Fraid so. Dean's living in the past."

"Dean, you know they have CD's and iPods now, right?"

"Tapes have better sound," is his argument.

"Oh, they do _not_!" I laugh. "My iPod has better sound than any of your cassette tapes."

"Yeah? Prove it."

"With pleasure." I pull my iPod out of a side pocket and turn it on.

"What kind of iPod is that?" Sam asks.

"iPod touch six," I tell him. "Gets announced in twenty-fifteen, released the year after. My mum and dad took me on my tenth birthday." Smiling at the memory, I type in my passcode and unlock it. "AC/DC you said?"

"AC/DC," Dean confirms. I open Pandora and type the band in, then set the iPod in the dock. 'Highway To Hell' comes on.

"That's better than your tape, Dean," Sam says.

"Yeah, okay. Not bad."

* * *

Since I have no intention of going to the morgue to look at a dead body, I wait in the car with the windows up to keep the heat in for me.

And I call my dad.

_"Hullo?"_ a woman who is _not_ my mum answers. _"Doctor, I didn't know you had a phone!"_

"Is the Doctor there?" I ask.

_"Yes, he is, hold on just a mo'. Doctor!" _

_"Just a minute, Clara, I'm recalibrating the time rotor!" _

"Do me a favour, Clara, was it? and remind him that the last time he recalibrated the time rotor the TARDIS locked him in his room for three days."

_"Sorry, who is this?"_

"Lyra, nice to meet you. Actually, can you put me on speaker?"

_"Yeah, sure."_ Clara presses a bunch of buttons before she hits the right one.

"Ta. Oi, Doctor! Last time you messed with her time rotor she locked you in your room, remember that?"

I hear a banging noise, probably his head, and a stream of Gallifreyan curse words.

"Language!" I remind him cheerfully.

_"I have half a mind to lock _you_ in your room, young lady!" _

"You only have _half_ a mind? Well, that explains a lot, doesn't it!"

Clara starts laughing.

_"You're not helping,"_ Dad reprimands her, causing her to laugh a bit harder.

"No, no, leave her be. I like her, and I better be seeing her next time you bother to show up, mister."

_"Oi, I can show up whenever I like! It's your mother that's kicked you out, not me." _

"Yes, but as I recall, Mum told me to leave because you were being self-destructive, remember that?"

Dean and Sam walk towards the car.

"Sorry, Dad, got to go, love you, bye!" I say rapidly, hanging up my phone and unlocking the doors to let my boys in.

_My_ boys? When did they become _my_ boys?

Oh well. 'My boys' it is. "So, what did you find?"

"Who were you on the phone with?" Dean asks.

"My dad, you nosey. Now answer my question."

"Frank O'Brien kicks the bucket, doctor labels it as a heart attack and moves on. Coroner rips him open, no blockages in the arteries."

"Red scratches on the arms, too." Dean and Sam slide into the car on either side of me and Dean starts the '67 Chevy Impala.

"Where're we headed next?"

"Sheriff's office," Sam says as he digs in the back for a towel.

"Coroner got 'spleen juice' all over Sammy's pretty face," Dean explains with a smirk.

"Ew!" I scoot away from Sam and into Dean's side. "That's gross!"

"Yeah, well the guy you're squirming up to held his heart," Sam points blame.

I ease up on my leaning on him to glare at Dean. "Were you wearing gloves?"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, sweetheart." I lean on him again and he wraps his arm around me.

"Oh, so I'm 'sweetheart' now?"

"Well, if the shoe fits."

"Can you guys save the flirting for later?" Sam interrupts.

"Who said I was flirting, Sammy?" I smile at him.

"Great, now you got her calling me that."

Dean pulls the car to a stop. "Who wants to go with me?"

"Take Hazel," Sam waves off, climbing into the back seat. "I'm gonna take a nap."

"Slacker," I say fondly, digging through my bag to find my mobile, sonic screwdriver, and psychic paper. Sliding out after Dean, I slam the car door, smooth out my pencil skirt, and follow him into the police station.

"You sure that piece of paper's gonna work?"

"Trust me, it'll work. Lead the way."

He opens the door and gestures for me to walk in.

"Hello, Agents Tyler and Smith here for the Sheriff." He flashes his badge and I flash my psychic paper at the little officer at the desk.

"Sorry, Sheriff Britton said not to disturb."

"That's okay, we'll wait," I smile before Dean can butt in, pulling him towards a line of chairs.

"That paper of yours actually works?" he asks in a low voice.

I hold it out to him. "Tell me what you see."

He looks at it long and hard before answering, "It's a picture of three people."

I flip it over to check. "Yep. That's me, my mum, and my dad."

"Your hair always been that short?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out. "Didn't used to be, but it's a long story." I wipe the psychic paper blank and fold it closed.

"Hells bells, Linus, have you seen my... Who are they?" the Sheriff, I'm guessing, walks out of an office. Dean and I stand.

"Federal agents. I, uh-" the Deputy is interrupted.

"And you kept them waiting?"

"You, you said not to disturb."

"Come on back, fellas," Sheriff Britton waves us back.

"Follow my lead," Dean orders under his breath.

"This isn't my first rodeo," I inform him, following the American police officer to his office before he stops us.

"Shoes off."

I give Dean a look before slipping my high heels off.

"Al Britton. Good to meet you," the Sheriff shakes our hands and sits down in his chair behind the desk.

"You too," I smile at him as he gestures for us to sit down. He takes out some sort of alcohol hand sanitizing gel and starts applying it liberally to his hands. Dean looks at me with a weird look on his face.

"Okay. So, what can I do for Uncle Sam?"

"Uncle Sam?" I mouth, looking to Dean.

"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand some of your men found his body," Dean covers for me.

"They did. Me and Frank, we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks."

Dean snickers, and the Sheriff gives him a stern look. At least he has the decency to look abashed.

"That's our softball team's name. They're majestic animals. I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was... He was a good man."

"Yeah. Big heart."

"Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange? Maybe scared of something?" I ask.

"Oh, hell yeah. Real jumpy."

"You know what scared him?"

"No. Wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest."

Sheriff starts to pour more of that gel on his hands, and Dean gives me a weird look.

"So, why the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?"

"It's probably nothing. Just a heart attack," I say. "Thank you for your time. My partner and I will be leaving now." I tug on Dean's sleeve and he follows me out, opening doors for me until we reach the Impala.

"Hold on, I don't like the look of those teenagers."

"Dean, they're _kids_. Don't be such a chicken." Then I raise my voice. "Oi, get away from the car!"

"Yeah, what's a girl like you gonna do?" one of them calls.

"Go back across the pond!"

I move the edge of my jacket to expose my gun and raise a perfectly arched eyebrow, and the five boys run like bats out of hell.

"See? Easy."

"No way that was a heart attack," Dean gets back to business.

"Definitely no way. Three victims, all with those same red scratches. All went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours," I agree with him.

"Something scared them to death?"

"All right, so what can do that?"

"What can't? Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things."

"So, we make a list and start crossing things off."

"Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?"

"I don't know, let's ask Sam." I knock on the back window, causing him to wake with a start and let out curses, and me to laugh.

"What the hell?" is the first thing Sam says when he opens the Impala, making me laugh even more.

"You should've seen the look on your face!"

"Yeah, cause I was asleep!" He starts to ignore me and turns to Dean. "How did it go?"

"Dead guy was real jumpy 'fore he kicked it. And the cop kept dumping hand sanitizer all over his hands."

"Who was the last one to see him alive?" I ask.

"Um, his neighbour, Mark Hutchins."

"Got an address?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, get in. I'll drive."

* * *

There was no need for me to go in the creepy reptile guy's house, so I'm in the car again. I don't mind, it gives me time to write in my journal.

I keep a journal, just like my mum and dad do. It's for us to figure out where we're at in each other's timelines. There's been time where Mum has met Dad and me, but it was future versions of us, and not the us that we were then. It's all very wibbly, and hard to explain.

_18.11.2008 _

_Rock Ridge, Colorado, the States, Earth _

_So, I've gone roadtripping with Sam and Dean, Hunting things. I even got to interview a Sheriff with Dean! It's not that much different from when Dad and I would investigate, to be honest. You interview, assess what you're dealing with, and then deal with it accordingly. _

_The Winchesters use credit card fraud to stay in motels during a case. _

_Oh, and they also know what I am. _

_Long story short, I went to Torchwood to get some coffee, and Jack messed with my vortex manipulator. **Note: shoot Jack when I see him next.** Anyway, I got back about two hours later, my boys aimed their guns at me and demanded to know what I was. Sam believed me, but Dean needed a bit more of proof, so I showed him my two hearts. Since I've regenerated into Hazel three-point-oh, my left heart is working almost properly as it should. There are times when it falters, but it's not as frequent as it used to. After I proved myself, Uncle Bobby promised I wouldn't kill anyone in their sleep and ordered me to go with them. He said he loved me, take care of myself, and call him if 'shit decides to hit the fan'. His words, not mine. _

_So, anyway, we drove eleven hours, Dean and Sam taking turns because I don't know how to drive a car, to Rock Ridge, Colorado, where Sam found a case. A man named Frank O'Brien apparently died of a heart attack, but there were no blockages in any of the main arteries. He also had weird scratches on his arm. Sam and Dean went to the morgue to talk to the coroner, but I stayed in the car. It's not that I don't like dead bodies (I don't), but they really only need to go two at a time. I don't mind staying in the car. _

_I called my dad and found out he has a new companion, Clara. I'm glad he has someone, but I can't help but feeling replaced. I mean, I know it's irrational, but I am part human, and humans feel emotions whether they want to or not. The Time Lord part of me is telling me I'm being irrational, but the human part of me is telling her to shut up. Really causes a headache if you think about it for too long. _

_Last night we stayed in a motel with two queen beds in one room. I stayed awake, because I didn't need any sleep, and kept myself busy looking through their father's journal (with permission). The pages are just filled with information on all the things they Hunt. Ways to kill them, find them, and a whole section dedicated to the demon that killed his wife. I almost feel bad for the way this took over John's life, and how he forced his sons to grow up in this world. But if it hadn't, I wouldn't have met them the way they are today. Strong-willed, pig-headed in Dean's case, stubborn as hell, and hell-bent on protecting each other and innocents. _

"How did it go?" I ask when they climb in the car.

"Dean's scared of snakes," Sam snickers.

"The damn thing was right on top of me, Sammy!"

"How big was it?" I ask.

"Huge! A freakin' albino snake!"

"Ugh," I shudder. "I don't do big snakes. Or little snakes. There's this one planet that has these snake-like parasites, about half the size of a garden snake, and what they'll do is crawl through your ear and eat the brain. That's how they serve their death sentence, with the little snakes."

"That's just wrong," Sam shudders. "Hey, Dean, drop me off at the county clerk's office, will ya?"

"Sure," Dean starts the car and pulls into traffic.

"What did you find out?" I ask.

"Guy was a dick in high school, pissed a lot of people off. Gets married, sobers up, then twenty years ago wife offs herself," Dean explains.

"Why?"

"That's what I'm gonna find out," Sam says. It was a short drive, and the car stops. Sam gets out, but after shutting the car door, he sticks his head through the open window and says, "You two kids have fun now!" and moves before I can smack him.

"That's right, you better run, Winchester!" I shout. He walks towards the building, laughing.

"I'm starved, wanna go get a bite to eat?" Dean offers. I buckle up and smile at him.

"I'd love to."

I'm still in my business skirt and stockings, and he's still in his 'monkey suit', but he's gorgeous, I'll admit it. Dean Winchester looks hot in a suit.

"Can I pick the music?" I ask when he pulls back out into the street.

"Nothin' too girly," he concedes, and I choose my personal station from Pandora on my iPod. "What song is this?"

"'Fall For You' by Secondhand Serenade," I tell him, singing along with the lead singer.

_"But hold your breath _  
_Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you _  
_Over again _  
_Don't make me change my mind _  
_Or I won't live to see another day _  
_I swear it's true _  
_Because a girl like you is impossible to find _  
_You're impossible to find" _

After that song finishes, he pulls into the car park of a little mom and pop diner.

"So, Hazel."

"Yeah?" I ask as a waitress leads us to a booth and hands us our menus. Dean waits for me to sit down before he does.

"That your real name or is it in some unpronounceable language that I can't even dream to pronounce?"

I roll my eyes. "My kind, we choose a name for ourselves when we're a specific age. My dad chose the Doctor. I chose something more... Earthen. Hazel."

"Do I get to know your real name?"

Giving him a smile, I tell him, "Maybe someday," and leave it at that. "What's good here? I haven't been in this country since 1935."

"Why 1935?"

My smile turns sad. "Long story. We didn't stop to eat, though. Too busy saving the world."

A different, older waitress comes up to the table. "Hi, my name is Lucy and I'll be your server today. Can I get you started on anything to drink?"

"Two glasses of whatever you have on tap, please, and we're ready to order if you don't mind."

"Sure, hun, what'll you have?"

"Two of your best burgers," Dean turns on the charm.

"They'll be right out," she assures us, walking away with a giggle and a smile after he winks at her.

"Wow, charm much?" I laugh.

"Hey, whatever works," he shrugs, smiling at me.

We sit in silence, not awkward, until I ask randomly, "What's your favourite colour?"

"Favourite colour?" he repeats, chuckling. "We gonna play twenty questions now?"

I shrug. "Why not? Come now, out with it."

"Um," he drags it out, thinking. "I don't know."

"Oh, come off it. Everyone has a favourite colour!"

"I just haven't thought about it much. What about yours?"

"Blue," I answer without hesitation. "Not just one shade, either. Ocean blue, sky blue, TARDIS blue."

"What's a TARDIS?"

"TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It's an acronym for my ship."

"Spaceship," he clarifies.

"Spaceship," I smile.

"How big is it?"

"Oh, bigger than you can possibly imagine," I say in a dreamy voice. Home always makes me happy. "See, TARDISes aren't built, they're grown from special Time Crystals. The longer they're exposed to the Time Vortex, the faster they grow."

"So, essentially, your spaceship is... alive?"

"Yes, very much so. Last of her kind, too. There was," my smile turns sad, "a war. They called it the Last Great Time War. Whole planets, entire species were destroyed as a species called the Daleks sought to annihilate all of creation that wasn't Dalek. Evil, spiteful, hateful little pepperpots with an eyestalk, a suction cup, and a extermination laser. The Time Lords tried to stop them, and one man succeeded, but at the cost of Gallifrey and all the Time Lords but one.

"My dad used to tell me stories of Gallifrey when I was younger. Red grass, two brilliant orange suns, and silver-leafed trees. The forest would look ablaze when the second sun rose from the south. The two moons make the night sky bright, and the stars looked brilliant. Tafelshrews would run around in the hills, and the children would try to catch them.

"Unfortunately, the Daleks are still round. Can't get rid of the little buggers.

"Right after the War, my father, the Doctor, meets a brilliant woman named Rose Tyler. Stops the end of the world, they did. Big vat of living plastic called the Nestene Consciousness takes over everything plastic. He offers her a ride in the TARDIS, she runs in. First date is the end of the world. Literally, he takes her to see the sun expand. He wasn't as smooth back then as he is now," I laugh. "So, he takes her on one trip to the future, one trip to the past where they save Charles Dickens' life in Cardiff. He was aiming for Naples, but he sucks at driving that old thing. Wrong year, wrong city, right planet; close enough. After all that, he takes her back home, only to discover that he got the timing off, again, and it's a year later. Jackie, her mum, was understandably pissed, of course. Slapped my dad, she did!

"After they dealt with the aliens in Downing Street, they went on more adventures, eventually meeting my 'uncle', Captain Jack Harkness, a Time Agent from the 50th century during World War Two. I am not joking," I protest at his look.

"What was he doing in World War Two if he's from the damn future?"

"Long story short, the Time Agency took two years worth of memories from him. He got pissed, screwed them over, stole a vortex manipulator, and became a con man. The TARDIS isn't the only thing out there capable of time travel. Anyway, the Doctor and Rose Tyler turned him from his conning ways, and he joined them in travelling.

"Skip forward a couple months, Daleks. Everywhere. In the year 200,100. I don't know much about that part, to be honest. She left that part out of her diary, and my dad won't tell me anything. I do know that they did the classic thing they always do: the Doctor saves Rose Tyler, and Rose Tyler saves the Doctor. Year or two later, bang! I come along, make my parents' lives hell, but for some reason, they still love me."

"Two burgers, two beers," the waitress comes back with steaming burgers and frothy beer.

"Thank you," I flash a polite smile as she walks away. "Mmm, chips!" Who can't resist chips?"

"Hazel, those are french fries."

"Is that what Americans call them? That's stupid. The French didn't even invent chips."

"What do you call a bag of actual, crunchy potato chips, then?"

"A packet of crisps," I answer before taking a bite out of the burger. "Oh, my god, this is good," I moan. He laughs at me in between bites of his own.

I tell him to shut up and throw a chip at him. And what does he do? Yep, guessed it. Eats the chip like an insufferable bastard. Honestly, what am I going to do with him? Or, better question: what am I getting myself into?

That's okay. I may not be Time's Champion or the Bad Wolf like my dad and mum, but I'm the TARDIS Child, and the TARDIS Child can take care of herself!

Okay, reassuring moment over.

"So, your turn. What makes Dean Winchester tick?" I ask between sips of beer and bites of burger.

"Nothing, really. Saving people, hunting things. That's pretty much it."

I don't believe him for a second, but drop it and eat my burger.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3: Terror part two (YF)

Chapter Three- Terror part two

Something I have learned about the brothers Winchester:

They're stubborn as all hell.

Well, I already knew that.

They're loud when a girl's trying to sleep!

That's a better one.

I had fallen asleep in the car, my head on Dean's shoulder, because Sam had called and asked to be picked up after he went to the county clerk's office and to where Frank O'Brien used to live. Dean insisted on paying for the meal (and got a thank you kiss on the cheek) when Sam-ster decided to ruin our evening (just kidding. Maybe), and we got in the car and drove to get him. But what's weird is where I wake.

I wake up (slowly) in the motel room, on top of the bed with a blanket covering me. Sneaking suspicion that it was Mr. Softie Winchester, and not the Empire State Building known as Sam. (I'm kidding! Well, sort of. I tease out of kindness.) And the two bastards are fighting quite loudly.

"If you two won't shut the hell up, I will freeze you where you stand," I warn from the bed with my eyes still closed, alerting them to my being awake. "Some of us need our four hours every other night."

"Can she do that?" Sam asks his brother.

"The word 'Time' is in my species title. _Time_ Lord. Damn right I can." Giving up on sleep for the moment, I roll on my side to face the bickering idiots and force my blue eyes with gold flakes open. "What the hell is going on?"

"Sammy says I'm haunted!" Dean points a finger at his brother. Literally. He points his index finger like a child.

"Are you?"

He stutters before saying (well, almost shouting), "What do you mean, 'am I?' I don't know!"

"Oh, so, there's something wrong with the EMF that _you_ made?" Sam bickers with him.

"I'm not fucking _haunted_!"

"What are you, then?"

"Not haunted!"

"Okay, that's it!" I snap, but they can't hear me above their petty fighting, now can they? I raise my voice to a shout, loud and stern enough to send Daleks cowering in my wake (well, probably not, but... ah, shut up). "Fingers on lips! _Now!_"

They, surprisingly, do what I say, but Sam mutters, "Dean, that chick is scary."

Sweet. Rawr!

No, just kidding. I'm done. I'm an adult now.

"Now, you two are going to listen to me, and you're going to listen _very_ carefully, got it?"

Dean and Sam both nod, with their index fingers still on their lips.

"Good. It is," I dig out my phone and hit the home button to turn the lock screen on, "one forty-two in the morning, and we all got up early this morning. I propose we all get our four hours, and face this problem in the morning, yes? Great. You two can fight for the spare bed, but I get that one. And fight quietly."

I unzip my skirt and peel off my stockings, slide off my jacket and unbutton my shirt; sitting on my bed with my bag in front of me, looking for my pyjama pants. When I find my blue ones with little yellow and red coloured owls wearing black glasses, I pull them on and flip the covers over, squirming down into the warmth and setting my eyeglasses on the side table.

Yes, I'm an alien that needs corrective lenses. Shut up.

"Goodnight, boys."

I hear two voices, one on the bed and one on the couch (ha ha, poor Dean), say, "Goodnight, Hazel," and I turn the lamp off, hoping to get a few more hours. And that there's a Starbucks nearby.

* * *

The next morning, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and everyone is happy!

Just kidding. This isn't a fairy tale.

Someone must've opened the floodgates, because it's pouring down rain. I don't hear a single bird, and Sam's chainsaw impersonation is giving me a headache. I throw back the covers, grab my bag, and head into the bathroom and lock the door.

The first thing I do is look in the mirror, and I don't like what I see. My eyes look old and tired, and my red hair is a mess. The scars are still there from my 'stay' with the damn Cybermen. I take off my sapphire blue heart pendant and set it on the counter, along with my brassiere. Glasses go off, and I strip down completely and turn the shower on.

When the water is hot, I set a white, fluffy towel onto the faux granite countertop and step in, shutting the see-through shower curtain behind me. I just stand there for a minute, letting my mind wander.

If I was home, what would I be doing? I'd wake up, climb out of my bed, and walk out of my bedroom, switching my music off as I made my way to the kitchen. Dad would tell me good morning, and hand me a banana as I made coffee for myself. If Mum was in, we'd have pancakes, banana for Dad and moonberry for me, I'd get dressed, and then we would be off, saving the universe as always.

I snap out of it and grab some shampoo, lathering my pageboy haircut with fringe bangs down to my eyes. Then, I rinse it out and put conditioner in. While I wait for it to set, I wash my body with a bar of soap and brush my teeth. Rinse it out, shut the water off, and grab the towel.

Drying off, I dig through my bag and find a plain purple t-shirt and a pair of ripped blue jeans. I get dressed, comb out my hair to make myself semi-presentable, hang my towel up over the shower curtain bar, unlock the door, and walk out. Silently, as to not wake the boys. I scrawl out a quick note on motel stationary and zip up my Converse.

_Went to go get food. Don't freak out if I'm not back yet. Hazel _

Seeing my boys are still asleep, I creep out of the motel room and lock the door behind me.

It stopped raining, thank God, but it's still pretty cloudy. Not a touch of blue in sight. I check my phone and see that it's six a.m. Not bad.

Starbucks is calling my name, so I head there first. I pick up a frappuccino for myself, and two regular coffees for the boys. Then I walk to the diner Dean and I were at last night.

When I walk out with a bag of food, I spot an all-too-familiar '67 Chevy Impala in the car park, 'Eye of the Tiger' blaring from the speakers. I get closer, and notice Dean air drumming to the song.

"You didn't have to come get me, tiger," I say into his open car window, startling him.

"Yes, I did. For all I know, you could've gotten mugged or kidnapped or murdered or something."

I give him a kiss on the cheek and walk around to the passenger door handing him a coffee.

"I got you a breakfast burrito, too. And I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, Sam either, so I got tons of sugar and creamer packets."

"You are an _angel_," he winks at me, pulling out of the car park and back towards the motel.

"I know." I take a sip of my white chick coffee and snuggle into Dean's side.

"Still tired?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

"Nope. Just let me drink my coffee and I'll be good."

It's a short drive back to the motel, and I see Sam waiting outside for us.

"Oi, Sammy!" I call, waving.

"Hey, guys," he walks towards the car. I get out and sit on the hood, Dean leaning against the car.

"This woman is an angel," Dean informs his brother. "Food _and_ coffee."

"Yellow brick road straight to your heart, huh, Dean?" Sam teases. "So, I just talked to Bobby."

"And?"

"What did he say?" I ask.

"Um, well, you're not gonna like it."

"What?" Dean asks.

"It's ghost sickness," Sam explains.

"Ghost sickness?"

"Yeah."

"_God_, no."

"What's ghost sickness?" I ask.

"No idea," Dean admits.

"Okay. Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes," Sam explains.

"Okay, get to the good stuff," his brother prompts.

"Symptoms are you get anxious. Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, but Sam, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks."

"Well, I doubt you caught it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero."

"Our very own outbreak monkey."

"Right. Get this, Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Were they gamecocks?"

"Cornjerkers."

"So, ghosts infected Frank. He passed it on to the other guys and I got it from his corpse?"

"Right."

"So now what, I have forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?"

"More like twenty-four."

"Super," Dean says sarcastically. "Well, why me? Why not you? I mean, you got hit with the spleen juice."

"Yeah, um, you see Bobby and I have a theory about that too. Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer."

"All wankers," I speak up.

"Yeah, basically, they were all dicks."

"So you two are saying I'm a dick?"

"No, no, no. It's not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favour," Sam says.

"I don't scare people," he scoffs.

"Dean, all we do is scare people."

"Okay, well then, you're a dick, too."

"Apparently, I'm not."

"Whatever. How do we stop it?"

"We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up."

"'Gank'?" I ask. "What's that?"

"Kill," Sammy defines.

"You thinking Frank's wife?" Dean gets back to business.

"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?"

"How do you... gank a ghost?"

"Salt and burn the remains."

* * *

_Hunting _

_To gank a ghost, salt and burn the remains. No corpse, find the object holding them here, and salt and burn that. _

_To gank a demon, say an exorcism. Holy water burns. Flinches at 'Cristo' (Latin for 'Christ'). Can't cross a devil's trap. _

_Vampire, chop his head off. Dead man's blood burns. _

"Do I have all this right?" I ask Sam, handing him my journal.

"Salt line keeps out pretty much anything, and iron deters ghosts. Other then that, yeah."

I add that, and tell him thanks.

"Shapeshifter- ganked by silver bullets," Dean says from the other side of the room.

I add that, too.

"Thank you, Dean."

Setting my phone on the table, I plug my earbuds in and tap on my purchased music. I play American Author's album, 'Oh, What a Life' on shuffle. 'Trouble' plays.

About half way into the song, I hear glass shattering. Sam and I both share a look before wandering towards the other side of the motel room.

"Everything okay in here?" I ask, glancing at the broken clock.

"Oh, yeah. Just peachy. Find anything?" Dean changes the subject.

"Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost. Hey, quit picking at that," Sam orders when Dean scratches at his arm. "How you feeling?"

"Awesome. It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like."

"Again?" I interrupt.

"Yeah. It's freaking delightful."

"We'll keep looking," Sam reassures his brother. Then, Dean starts coughing. "You okay? Hey!"

"Dean!" I call worriedly when he darts to the sink. He spits out... a wood chip?

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you."

"I don't want to be a clue."

"The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something."

"Tell us what, wood chips?"

"Wood chips," I muse. "Lumber mill?"

"Exactly," Sam smiles.

* * *

Sam, Dean, and I are standing outside the lumber mill, leaning over their massive weapon collection under a false bottom in the Impala, when Dean insists he's not going in there.

"Dean, don't be such a baby. If _I_ have to go in, so do you."

He takes a drink of something in a flask. "Fine. Let's do this. It's a little spooky, isn't it?"

"Here, Dean," Sam hands him a gun.

"Oh, I'm not carrying that. It could go off!" He takes a torch instead. "I'll man the flashlight."

"Torch," I correct.

"You got a gun?" Sam asks me.

"Yeah, just give me a mo'." I shove stuff out of the way in my purse and pull out my two weapons of choice. "Sonic pistol, or old-fashioned 1913 pistol?"

"Can that one do any damage?" he points to my sonic pistol.

I drop my ancient pistol back in and charge up the sonic pistol with my sonic screwdriver. "You've _no_ idea."

"Will it work?" Dean asks sceptically. "It looks like a toy."

"Allow me to demonstrate," I grin sneakily. Spotting an old metal sign post, I take aim and fire. A huge blast of blue sonic energy shoots out of the gun, effectively knocking the post down.

"Okay. Not a toy."

"Damn straight." I blow the tip of the gun like they do in the movies and tuck it in the back of my trousers. "Sonic pistol, standard issue for Time Agents in the fiftieth century."

"What's a-"

"Dean, quit stalling. Let's go," Sam cuts him off.

"But-"

"C'mon, sweetie, stay next to me," I wrap my arm around Dean's. "You'll protect me, won't you? Strong, American, human man like you."

If I was under oath in a Shadow Proclamation courtroom, I'd swear that his chest puffed out at my praise. Nonetheless, he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"Don't worry, firefly, I'll protect you."

"Ooh, I like that," I smile flirtatiously.

Sammy rolls his eyes but follows us into the mill.

"You're welcome," I mouth towards him. A warbling sound is played, unlike the TARDIS's noise.

"EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?" Dean asks Sam.

"You don't say," he answers sarcastically. "Come on."

"What's an EMF?" I wonder.

"EMF- electromagnetic frequency reader," Dean explains to me. "Spirits leave traces of EMF, so we use that to detect where they've been."

"And if they're coming," Sammy adds.

"EMF, you say?" I pull out my sonic screwdriver from my pocket. Messing with the settings, it warbles about twenty times in different pitches until I find the right one. "Ow!" I exclaim as it short circuits. "Son of a-"

"I found something," Sam interrupts me trying to get the damn thing to work. "'To Frank. Love, Jessie'. Frank O'Brien's ring."

"What the hell was Frank doing here?" Dean asks.

"No idea."

Dean and I follow Sam into a room of lockers when we hear rustling. I open a locker and a cat jumps into my arms, and Dean screams like a little girl!

"Aw, look at you!" I coo at her. "Can I keep her?"

"No!" two voices chorus at me.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of her! I'll just go put her in the car."

"Hazel, you are _not_ putting that damn thing in _my_ car!" Dean orders in a stern voice as I walk away.

"I can't hear you!" I say in a singsong tone, carrying the cat outside. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?"

"Hazel, I _mean_ it!" I hear from behind me.

"Can't hear ya, Winchester!"

"Not in _my_ car, Smith!"

I laugh, walking towards the Impala with the cat still in my arms. It mews pathetically at me, wanting down.

"No, no, sweetheart," I console in Gallifreyan. "It's okay."

All of a sudden, Dean runs out of the lumber mill and hides behind his car.

"You alright?" I ask him, giving him a look.

"That was scary!" he gasps, taking a drink out of the flask again.

"What is that?"

Dean swallows before answering. "Whiskey."

I motion for him to hand it over and he does, allowing me to take a swig.

* * *

"This is the Garland file," Linus hands Sam a folder. "Is he... drunk?"

"No. Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma. What does that mean?"

"The guy died twenty years ago, before my time. Sorry."

"Then can we talk to the sheriff?"

"Um, he's out sick today."

"Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird. Mind if I take this?"

"Know what? You're awesome," Dean says drunkenly.

"Dean, stop it!"

"Thanks. Um, y-you too, I guess," Linus says, unsure, and I pull Dean out of the station.

"Sam, you drive," I pickpocket Dean to get his keys and toss them to him.

"What? No! Sam is _not_ driving my car!" Dean protests.

"Dean whatever-your-second-name-is Winchester, this is _not_ up for discussion, got it? I don't know how to drive a car, so Sam is. And you're too drunk to drive. So, we're doing it my way. Get in the car."

"But-"

"Get. In. The. Goddamn. Car," I reiterate calmly.

He tries to match the strength of my glare but to no avail. Giving up, he gets in the front passenger seat and slams the door. Sam high-fives me behind his brother's back.

"I saw that," he protests.

"Ask me later if I care, Winchester."

* * *

Sam and Dean went to go visit Luther's brother at Peaceful Pines Assisted Living, leaving me here in the motel room by myself. I'm okay with being by myself, but I'm worried about a certain Winchester, who's been drinking heavily all day. And Sammy told me not to call unless there was an emergency. There isn't one; I'm just _really_ good at worrying.

After pacing for a good five minutes, I collapse on the bed I slept in last night and scream in the pillow.

"Screaming your lungs out isn't gonna help any, sweetie."

My head cracks up, and my eyes focus on my mother.

"Jesus, Mum, thanks for the double heart attack."

"You're welcome." River Song replies just as sarcastically as her daughter and heads straight to the mini fridge. "Got any alcohol?"

"I left my bottle of hypervodka that Jack gave me with Bobby Singer. I think Dean has some beer in the fridge, though."

She finds the beer and grabs two bottles, busting the caps off and handing me one.

"Only because I don't like drinking alone, young lady." Mum sits down next to me on the edge of the bed, justifying what she refers as my 'teenage drinking'. "Now. Tell me about these boys you're travelling with."

"Oh, where to begin?" I sigh, taking a drag of the alcohol. "They're just so easy to be around, even when they're bickering like children. Dean is older, but just a bit shorter than Sam. He loves his car."

"How much?" Mum asks.

"Think Dad and the TARDIS."

We laugh.

"Do they know?" she asks.

"Mmm-hmm," I answer her, moving to lean against the headboard. "Didn't exactly tell them in the smoothest of ways, though."

"How'd they find out?" she joins me, taking a drink of beer.

"I went to Torchwood to get some of Ianto's coffee early yesterday morning. Jack screwed with my vortex manipulator, and I ended up landing two hours after I left. Owe him a bullet for that."

"Don't kill him, sweetie. I'm not done with him yet."

"Ugh, fine. He'll just come back though. Anyway, wanker screwed with my manipulator and I landed above the floor. Crashing to the ground is not fun. They demanded to know what I was, and I told them."

"And they didn't freak out or anything?" Mum asks as the cat comes and falls asleep on my lap. Such a small little thing, that cat. I'd say half a year old, based on her small size.

"Dean didn't buy it, but came to his senses when I showed him my two hearts."

"Lucky one beating okay?"

"Yeah, feel for yourself." Mum puts our beer bottles on the nightstand and places her hands on my chest.

"Wow, that's good, sweetie."

"Bobby assured the boys that I wasn't gonna kill them in their sleep, and they took me with them."

"What are you doing in Colorado?"

"See, the thing is, on this planet, there's all sorts of supernatural things; like ghosts, shapeshifters, demons, vampires, and those are the things I know about."

"Oh, sweetie, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"No, no, Mum, it's okay. They help people. It's fun, actually. We interview people, research, and stop whatever is happening. Sound familiar?"

She chuckles a bit.

"You are too much like your father and I. Always looking for trouble."

"Well, at least I'm not jeopardy friendly," I say in a smartarse tone, reaching for my beer.

"Oi!" she whacks my arm playfully.

I laugh.

"Anyway, Sam found a case here a few days ago. Three men, completely healthy, dropped dead from what was assumed a heart attack." I summarize what we have so far, leaving out dinner last night, and end with my boys going to that retirement home.

"You be careful, understand me?" Mum orders firmly. "I'm dead serious."

"How 'dead serious'?" I ask in a smartarse tone.

"'Dead serious' meaning every single one of your regenerations 'dead serious.'"

Well shit.

"I swear, I'll be careful."

"Good," she kisses my cheek. "I've got to go, but I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah. Love you, Mum."

"Love you, too, sweetie." She steps away from the bed and to the middle of the room, programmes her own vortex manipulator, and disappears in a flash of blue light.

And then the Impala pulls up.

_Never a dull moment_, I think wryly, rubbing my fingers through the kitten's fur and taking a drag of beer.

"Hullo, boys," I smile when they walk into the room relatively unscathed. "How'd it go?"

"I'm experiencing his death in slow motion," Dean moans. "These marks? Freakin' road rash! _God,_ I need a beer."

"No, no, no, no, no," I protest, setting the cat on the bed (who stays sacked out the whole time) and going to stand in between Dean and the refrigerator full of beer.

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I _mean_, are you _trying_ to kill yourself? You've been drinking all day!"

"I'm not gonna kill myself," he rolls his eyes, trying to reach for the coveted beer. I grab his hand before he can. "Hey. I know my limits, now let me go."

"Oh, really? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"You're not gonna win, Dean," Sam interrupts. "You didn't win last time."

"Not helping, Sammy!" he snaps at his brother.

"Two against one, Winchester," I smile. "Now, give me the flask of whiskey in your jacket pocket, and nobody gets hurt."

"Who's a little mouse like _you_ gonna hurt?" he returns my playful smile.

"Oh, did you forget? Mousey's got a gun," I pull my sonic pistol from the back of my jeans and wave it mockingly.

He hands me the flask with a huge, exaggerated sigh, muttering about 'meddling Brits'.

"So, now that that's settled. How did it go at the retirement home?"

Dean and Sammy take turns explaining, Sam in a chair by the table, Dean in a recliner.

"He was about to call security when this woman walked in, claiming to be our supervisor."

"Woman?" I ask Sammy. "This tall, crazy curly hair, British?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Dean asks.

"No reason. Keep going."

_Ooh, Mum and I will be having _words_! _

* * *

Long night turns into an early morning, and I'm on 'babysitting Dean' duty. So much fun, let me tell you. He finally settled on watching daytime t.v. a while ago.

"Oh, this isn't helping," he moans at the telly before his mobile phone rings. "Hey... What is it?... Yeah, here she is. Hey, Hazel. Phone." Dean passes me the 'phone' and I pull it up to my ear.

"Hello, Sammy!"

_"Hey, how's Dean?" _

"Great," I say carefully, knowing the man in question can hear everything I'm saying.

_"That bad?" _

"No, I never said that."

_"Listen, I've got Bobby with me, and we've got a hell of a plan. Just, just keep an eye on him, okay?" _

"You've got it. See you soon."

_"All right. Bye." _

I hang up the mobile and hand it back to Dean.

"Do you hear that?" he asks abruptly.

"Hear what?" I ask Dean.

"Sounds like... barking."

"Barking?" I ask sceptically. "I don't hear barking. Dean, are you okay?"

And then the door breaks down.

"What the hell?!" I screech.

"Sheriff?" Dean asks. "What are you doing?"

"Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?" he accuses.

"Hey, hey, you're-you're sick. You're sick. You're sick, all right? Just-just like me, okay? You got to relax," Dean tries to calm him down. I see the red scratches on his arm, just like on Dean's.

"Relax, Sheriff Britton, please," I console. "Would you like a beer?"

"No!" he snaps, hitting Dean. "Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn't bust him. So what? And you're gonna bring me down over _that_? No, sir." He pulls a gun.

I pull my own. "Drop it, now!"

Dean shoves the gun away from Britton, and they start throwing punches.

"Stop!" I interrupt, grabbing the Sheriff's gun off the floor, popping the magazine out and throwing it on one of the beds. "Dean!"

Before the cop can rip his face off, Dean throws him on the coffee table, shattering it.

"Okay, both of you calm down, got it? Listen to me!" I say firmly. The cop grabs his chest.

"Stay away from me!"

"Al, you got to calm down!" Dean orders.

"Step back!"

Sheriff Al Britton dies from a heart attack.

"Dean," I pull on his arm gently. "Dean, there's nothing we can do, come on. In here." He lets me lead him into the bedroom and I shut the door. The kitten immediately hops on the bed and starts purring, rubbing against Dean's legs.

He ignores the black bundle of fur and starts scratching.

"Hey, quit picking at that," I grab his hand to make him stop. "Dean. Please look at me."

Terror is the only thing that fills his eyes.

"What should we name the kitten?" I try to distract him.

"What?" he asks.

"I said, what should we name the kitten?"

I intentionally keep my voice and movements calm and non-alarming, while Dean is the complete opposite.

"Do you hear that?" he looks around the room frantically.

"Hear what?"

"The-the-the ticking, the-the barking, freaking Sam in my ear, my heart pounding-"

All of a sudden, he freezes.

"Dean, what is it?" He looks to the other side of the bed and gasps.

"No. _No._"

"Dean, tell me what you see," I keep my voice calm, but firm, keeping one hand on his arm. He stiffens. "Dean. I can't help you if you don't help me. What are you seeing?"

He get off the bed weird, awkwardly, moving his shoulders oddly.

"You, you are _not_ real!" he points not at me, but next to me.

"What's not real, Dean? Who's not real? Dean?"

He bends down in a groan, clutching his chest.

"Dean!" I dart off the bed and to his side. "Dean, your heart is just _racing_, you need to calm down!"

"You are not real," he says again, completely ignoring me. His face props up, and he locks eyes with something only he can see.

"Dean, I need you to focus on my voice, okay? Whoever or whatever else is here isn't real, it's just you and me. Dean, look at me."

"Why me? Why'd I get infected?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, but you've got to calm down. Please, for me. Dean, look at me, please."

"What?" he asks before groaning.

"Dean, please! Calm down, focus on me!"

He falls from his crouch flat on his back, clutching his heart.

"Dean Winchester, you look at me, right now!" I pull his face into my hands. "Dean, focus on my breathing, yeah? In and out, just like this. Dean!"

His heart stops.

"Not like this, Dean, you wake up, right now!" I start CPR, and do it for about a minute before he gasps back to life.

"Did you-did you kiss me?" he coughs.

I breathe a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god!" I wrap my arms around him, and he returns my hug.

"Scratches are gone," he says. "Hell bitch is gone, dogs are gone." I let him go and lay on the floor next to him.

"God, you scared all my lives out of me. Don't do that again!"

"No promises," he pants. "Well. That was invigorating." He breathes out deeply, then sits up. "Let's go find Sammy and Bobby, yeah?"

"Yeah. Seriously, though," I hop up and pick up the kitten. "What should we name the puff ball?"

"I don't know. What do you wanna name her?"

"I don't know. Seems like a 'Zoey' to me."

"'Zoey'? What kind of name is that?"

* * *

"So, you guys road-hauled a ghost... with a chain?" Dean asks sceptically.

"_Iron_ chain, etched with spell word," Sammy defends.

"Really?" I ask, spying the blue box a couple of yards away. "And did you get it from the mad man or woman?" I tilt my head towards the box and hand the kitten to Bobby.

"Wait, hold on, I don't want this-"

"Dad! Get out here!" I cross my arms.

The door opens, and a head donning a fez peeks out.

"I'm not here," he says before drawing back in and shutting the door.

Then another head peeks head peeks out, this one with curly hair, and she says, "Neither am I."

"That the woman from the centre?" I ask my boys.

"Yeah, actually," Sam says with a total bitch face.

"Mum, Dad, out here! Now!"

"Yeah, those three put together are scary, so I'm gonna go," Bobby hands the cat back to me.

"You sure, Bobby? I can give you a ride back to Sioux Falls," I offer.

"I know how your old man drives that thing. 'Sides, I can't leave the car here."

"Drive safe, Bobby," Dean and Sam both say.

"Bye, Bobby," I wave my beer. He drives away, and I pass the kitten to Dean. "Hold her." Then I start marching towards the TARDIS, pulling on the handle to find it locked. "Dad! Mum! Unlock the door!"

"Shh! If she can't hear us, she'll go away!"

"_Mother! _I _can _hear you!"

"Aw, damn it. C-Coming, dear!"

The TARDIS door slowly opens, and my beer bottle vanishes from my hand and appears in hers.

"You're too young to be drinking, young lady."

"Oh, I am not, Madame Meddle-Much!"

"What do you mean, 'meddling'? I'm not _meddling_!"

"Yes, yes you _are_ meddling! You are _so_ meddling!"

"I am _not_meddling! I was _helping_!"

"'Helping'? _'Helping'?_ Is that what they call it in the fifty-first century, _helping_?"

"Now, now, ladies," my dad tries to split us up and effectively gets in between. "Hello, sweetheart." Dad hugs me, and I hug him back.

"Dad, it's been four days, not a year. Calm down. Mum, Dad, this is Dean and Sam Winchester," I introduce, walking over to my boys and take a sip of Dean's beer. "Boys, this is River Song, and the Doctor."

"Doctor what?" Sam asks.

"Ooh, I love it when they do that!" my dad smiles.

I roll my eyes and yank the fez off his head. "Just 'the Doctor'," I explain, chucking the fez as far as I can throw it.

"Oi! That was a good fez!"

"Dad, it's a _fez_. Nobody wears fezzes anymore."

"Fezzes are _cool_!"

"Fezzes are _not_ cool!"

"Fezzes aren't cool, dear," Mum confirms.

Something in the TARDIS starts beeping, and my dad darts in through the doors, pushing them open instead of pulling them.

"Sweetie!" Mum runs after him.

I look to my boys, taking the kitten into my arms and raising the edges of my lips into a full-blown smile. "You coming?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

**So, it seems that this chapter decided to be a bitch and didn't want to get written. Also, family decided to take over my house for a week, which meant Ihad to share the laptop (and clear my web history lol). Sincerest apologies.  
**

**To those who review this chapter, here's a cookie. Those who don't, here's some burnt toast. You're welcome.**

**Any dialogue and characters you recognize, unfortunately, don't belong to me. I wish they did, but they don't. BUT, Hazel/Lyra _is_ mine! All mine! :D**

**Next chapter will be an adventure in the TARDIS:) so excited!**

**Love to you all!**

**alyssianagrace**

**28.2.2014**

**P.S., school (the new 's' word) starts soon, so chapters may be few and far in between. I apologize in advance :/**


	4. Chapter 4: Star

**Okay, guys, I'm gonna operate on the assumption that you don't know how to review! Desktop users, there's a field at the end of the chapter that you can type your love or polite criticism in. Mobile users, there's a button that says 'review' at the bottom at the chapter. Please use those features and send me a little note saying how much you love the chapter, how much you love me, or a little blurb saying what I can fix. No beta, so all mistakes are mine (which is why I need my nonexistent reviewers! be existent, guys!). This is pure fluff, btw, so, no drama. Next chapter will be a DW episode. Love to all!**

**alyssianagrace**

**12.9.2014**

* * *

Chapter Four: Star  
I walk through the doors of the beloved time ship, and the console stops beeping.  
_Little cub! My little cub!_ the TARDIS chirps telepathically.  
"She missed me," I beam, setting the kitten on the floor.  
"What is that, a cat?" Mum asks while Dad picks her up.  
"A kitten. Half a year, I'd say," Dad answers her. "Hello, you gorgeous thing."  
She mews at him before batting at his bowtie with her paw.  
"No, that is _not_ food. That is a bowtie. Bowties are cool."  
"My cat is _not_ wearing a bowtie, Dad!" I interrupt, knowing where his train of thought is going.  
"Have you fed her at all? Come with me, Zoey, there's food in the kitchen. I think. We might have to visit a trading post soon."  
"Sammy! Dean! Are you coming, or what?" I shout towards the door, making my way over to the opening.  
My boys are just standing there, regarding the TARDIS with serious looks on their faces.  
"Why does it look like a British police box from the sixties?" Sammy asks. "Do all of them look like that?"  
"Nope. When my dad was younger and first stole her, the chameleon circuit got stuck when he landed in the sixties. Never bothered to fix it. Now, are you two gonna just stand there, or come and look inside?"  
"Will we all fit?" Dean wonders.  
"Dean, sweetheart, d'ya not listen t'me when I talk to you?" I smile cheekily, referring to our date a few days ago. "We'll fit. Come on!" Pulling both doors open wide, I walk back in to my home.  
"The doors don't open that way," Dad comments.  
"Yes, they do! It says 'pull to open' on the _out_-side. That means you _push_ them on the _in_-side. So, see, I _am_ doing it right!" I argue while Sam and Dean step in.  
"Whoa," Sammy says, while Dean's "Holy _shit_!" doesn't surprise me.  
"It's... it's-"  
"Bigger on the inside," I finish with my boys, cracking the biggest tongue-in-teeth smile in the history of tongue-in-teeth smiles. "Could also be considered smaller on the outside, if you prefer. TARDIS, T-A-R-D-I-S; stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It's my spaceship. Well, spaceship and time machine, too."  
"How does... how does all this fit into the little box outside?"  
"Easy, Sammy. Pocket dimensions. Just like how my purse is bigger on the inside, all because of a little pocket dimension. Very hard to make."  
"Wonderful to have, though, all my jacket pockets are filled with them," Dad pokes in.  
"Yes, but, that's boring. You never change your clothes."  
"Oi, I do, too! I change every day!"  
"Uh huh, sure. Is there any food in the kitchen, or are we gonna have to hit up a trading post?"  
"Trading post or grocery market, I'm not sure yet. River, sweetheart, can you help me make a list of what we need?"  
"Sure, sweetie. Lyra! Trading post near the lost moon of Poosh; coordinates should be already in the TARDIS computer."  
"What are they under?" I ask, making my way towards the spatial location input and preview screen.  
"Um," she calls from the kitchen. "Try... Search 'Poosh trading post'."  
"What the hell kind of writing is this?" Dean asks, coming to stand over my shoulder.  
"Gallifreyan," I answer him. "Dad! Can I repair my sonic or will that jack up the flight pattern?"  
"Yes!"  
"No!"  
Dad says 'yes', but Mum says 'no'.  
"I'll wait!" I call before softening my voice to a normal speaking level, talking to my boys while searching on the TARDIS computer banks. "Remember that sparking when we were at the lumber mill? Last time I repaired this thing, I must've done it wrong. 'Course, last time, I did it by hand. Got smashed by a Ganger. Had to take it apart and rebuild it. Guess I wired a setting or two wrong.  
"Mum! It's not there! When was the last time we went?"  
"Asking the wrong person, sweetie!" she says before I hear a crashing sound.  
"Oi! Children about!"  
"I'm gonna wash out your mind with soap!" my loving mother responds cheekily.  
"Then I'm not gonna let you psychic link with me anytime soon!"  
My parents just laugh at me.  
"This is all very..."  
"Culture shock, I know," I say sympathetically to Dean. "It's all very different than what you're used to. Sammy, you okay?"  
"Fine," he says, but that doesn't reassure me.  
"D'ya wanna come with to the trading post? You don't have to."  
"Eh, why not?" Dean smiles at me.  
"Wouldn't miss it," Sam assures. "Sounds like fun."  
"'Sides, we showed you our world. Now it's your turn," the older Winchester elbows me.  
"Oh, you just _wait_, boys. _Just_ wait." I pull up the log of the places and times the TARDIS has landed. "Oh, help me out, here, old girl. Mum and Dad are so old, an' they have the _worst_ memories."  
The TARDIS laughs, chirping happily at my little dig at her Thief and her Wolf. A set of coordinates is highlighted on the screen.  
"Bless you, love," I kiss the corner of the viewing screen. "Now, don't help me, I can do this myself."  
_Can you?_  
"Oh, don't be so sceptical. You're turning into Dad. Ow!" I yank my hand back. "I can't believe you just _shocked_ me!"  
She just laughs at me, a sound only telepaths can hear.  
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Goddess, if I didn't know how old you were, I'd swear you were younger than _me_!"  
Dean and Sam look at me, closer to the railings than I remember, like I have a screw loose.  
"TARDISes are grown, not built," I explain. "They're sentient. Trust me, I'm not having a conversation with myself. But, you have to be telepathic to hear her, which humans aren't. _No_, now be nice," I turn my attention back to the old girl, hitting her dashboard as I do and quickly snatching my hand back before she can shock me. "Now, no helping me. I mean it!"  
_Fine, fine. But if you crash me..._  
"Oh, relax, I'm not gonna crash. I'm not Dad. I actually passed my driving test."  
I can feel her happiness and fondness at the thought of her Thief and her Cub.  
"First things first," I say, pulling the door release lever so the doors stay locked and sealed. Then the gyroscopic stabiliser. Using the coordinates she gave me, I add that into the spatial location input. Then the dematerialise switch.  
"Is it supposed to be making that noise?" Dean asks, holding on to the railings with a death grip.  
"Yeah, why?" I ask him.  
"Dean's afraid of flying," Sam explains.  
"You can't even tell it's movin'!" I smile at my boys, checking the cooling gauges and time altimeter. And, just when I think I'm doing good, she starts beeping at me. "What? What did I forget to do?"  
The area around the zigzag plotter lights up. I quickly amend it and, when I'm sure I'm where I want to be, flick the materialisation switch and the door release. I check the directional pointer and find I'm where I want to be. And the time altimeter tells me when I am (mid 26th century).  
"Perfect!" I beam. "Hey, Dad! What kind of money do they use in 2549? Galactic Units or Universal Credits?"  
"Units," he says, walking into the room with Mum behind him and Zoey behind her. "Got the list made."  
I take the piece of paper from my father's hands and look at the tons of Gallifreyan symbols, both front and back.  
"When was the last time you went to the market?" I ask, giving him a bitch face of my own.  
"Linear time or my timeline?"  
"Yours," I cross my arms.  
"Oh, uh," he rubs the back of his neck. "Couple months ago? Maybe a year?"  
"Da-ad!" I draw the word out and smack his arm. "I can't believe you!"  
"I've been busy!"  
"Yeah? With what?"  
"Things!"  
"What kind of things?"  
"Timey-wimey things!" he finally sputters out after stuttering, trying to find an answer.  
"How many units do you think we'll need, Mum?" I ignore my dad.  
"Ooh, a couple thousand, easy. We might have some left over from the last time we were in this time period if you wanna go check."  
"K," I agree with her, and start making my way to the money room. It's just a plain room, with tons of little bins on shelves. I pull the one that says 'Universal- 2300 to 143579' in Gallifreyan and grab all the units out of there.  
"Son of a bitch," Dean says, looking at the room.  
"What?" I face him but keep my eyes on the units as I count them in my hands.  
"How big is this place?"  
"The TARDIS? No one's really sure, not even my dad. She's just... there."  
"Son of a bitch," he repeats, making me smile.  
"Come on," I pull lightly on his arm and walk back to the console room. "Found about five hundred units, Mum." I hand her the stack and she double-checks my counting.  
"Oh, we're gonna need to find a cash point, then."  
"Wait, I think I might have some," Dad says, searching his pockets.  
"I might, also, in the emergency money you gave me," I tell my mother, looking in my purse for the plastic zipper bag full of different currencies. "British pounds, American dollars, an IOU from Jack; ah, here we go! Galactic units, let's see," I count the bills.  
"I've got twenty-six," Dad hands my mum the currency.  
"What's the IOU for?" Mum wonders.  
"Um, two thousand quid and a beer. Oh, I remember what that's from! Jack and I had a drinking contest."  
"A what?" Dad crosses his arms.  
"Water drinking contest and root beer," I save.  
"Ha! You're full of it, sweetheart!" he grabs an unsuspecting me in a hug.  
"Aah! Daddy, let me go!" I laugh.  
He does what I ask and I stick my tongue out at him when I'm at the doors.  
"Cash point, Mum?"  
"No, we've got about three thousand. I think we're good."  
"How much of that do I get?" I ask with an innocent smile.  
"How much are you gonna get out of a cash point?" she mocks me.  
"Now, about that..."  
"Lyra," Dad says, drawing my name out.  
"Now, Daddy, it wasn't my fault, y'see," I try before he cuts me off.  
"What did you do?"  
"I may or may not have broken my sonic screwdriver again," I say sheepishly. "I must've rewired it wrong when it got smashed by that Ganger. All it does is spark now, see?" I pull my sonic out of my pocket and hand it to him. "I tried to use it as an electromagnetic frequency meter, and it started sparking. An' I knew you wouldn't help me with it, because it's mine, and you said it was all my responsibility. So, I was gonna have the TARDIS help me fix it, 'cause I'm sure the wiring's complete shit, now."  
"I'll take a look at it when we're done here," he reassures me, making me smile.  
"Thank you, Daddy," I beam, then turn my puppy eyes on my mother.  
"No, Lyra, not the puppy eyes," she orders. "Lyra. No."  
I stick my bottom lip out just so, and she crumbles.  
"Oh, I hate you," Mum says with a smile on her face, counting out units.  
"No, you don't," I smile cheekily. "You love me."  
"I know. Here. Three hundred for you. And use this two hundred to buy your uncle Jack a nice big bottle of hypervodka," she hands the units to me and then turns to my boys. "Three hundred for you, and three hundred for you. Don't spend it all in one place."  
"Ma'am, we couldn't possibly-"  
"Save it, boys," Mum smiles at their protests. "And my name's River, not 'ma'am'."  
"She's not gonna take it back," I warn. "No matter how slyly you try to pass it off to her, she'll force you to have it. She knows _everythin'_."  
"Oi!" my dad catches me before I go off. "No getting drunk!"  
"Da-ad, come on!" I moan. "I'm old enough!"  
"I said no!"  
"Mum lets me drink with her! How old were you when you had your first drink?"  
"No, no, no, I was young and stupid. I'm a bad example, don't use me."  
"C'mon, dear, let her have a couple beers or something. She'll be fine," Mum takes my side. "You were about fifty when you got drunk for the first time."  
"Ha! See? I'm more than old enough!"  
"Oi, wait just a second. Like I said, 'young and stupid'."  
"Well, 'young and stupid', let me make my own mistakes. Now, I'm gonna go see if they have that bra store I love."  
"Not invented yet, sweetheart," my mother informs me. "Try a few thousand years in the future."  
"Dammit! Fine, then I'm gonna show my boys the sights. Bye!" I wave before bounding out.  
What I love about this place, you ask? The stars. It's always night, here, and the stars are so beautiful. It's like this huge outdoor market, with stalls everywhere and big lights illuminating everything. And did I mention music? There are little 26th century speakers all about, small but damn powerful.  
"Haze!" the bartender and music monkey, Emma, shouts at me, waving me over with her cerulean blue hands. "You bitch, get the fuck over here!"  
"Who are you callin' the bitch?" I laugh at her, walking towards her little station with my boys trailing behind me.  
"Oh my goddess, that 21st century band you got me hooked on, hot damn! Those boys, goddess! Ooh, you got two of your own! You filthy thing!" she laughs.  
"Sex addict, I swear to the goddess!" I smack her arm. "I got a shitload of more music for you, though."  
"Ooh, I want it! I'm a music whore, I'll admit it!"  
"Damn straight!" This girl is a frickin' chucklebox. I slide over the eenie weeny m-card across the counter, and she puts it into her iMacTab.  
"Mmm, I love you," she looks through the songs with her beady yellow eyes. "You have no idea how much I love you right now."  
"Love me enough to give me a bottle of hypervodka or two?"  
"Girl, you're looking at three, easy," she tells me, her eyes still glued to the tablet.  
"Yes! The party never ends with you!"  
"Damn fucking straight, bitch!" she gives me a high-five, then turns to my boys. "Hi, Emma. Crespallion. By the way, if some of the vendors see you packing like I can (and not in the good way, my _goddess_), you'll be killed. Fair warning."  
"Thanks for the heads-up," Dean smiles at her. "Sam and Dean. Human."  
"Oh my goddess, can I keep him?" Em whispers loudly to me.  
"They're mine," I whisper-yell back. "Both of them."  
"Goddess-fucking-_dammit_! I fucking hate you!"  
"I saw them first!" I laugh with her. "Play 'Habits', you'll fucking fall in love. And then give me a bottle of hypervodka and three beers."  
"Hot damn, you're demanding," she says before crouching down behind the counter.  
"And that's a good thing."  
"Yes, it is," she admits. "Okay, three human-style beers, and a bottle of hypervodka for the man who can't stay dead. Give that uncle of yours a big kiss from me, yeah?"  
"No, but I can have Ianto do that particular job. Hey, have any shipments come in lately?"  
"Why, your dad forget to eat again?"  
"Oi, we Time Lords have a different sense of time than other people."  
"Y'mean, those of us who _don't_ live for thousands of years."  
"I'm not even that old!" I complain. "And we've got to go, so, any shipments or not?"  
"Yeah, check out Damien and Michael, Sarai, Mishaela, and Kai."  
"Thanks, bitch. You're amazin'."  
"Who're you callin' a bitch, ya whore!" she says as a goodbye. I hold up two fingers behind my back and she laughs her head off as my boys and I leave.  
"You don't have to go with me, you know. I'm just gonna pick up a couple of things. We just have to meet back at the TARDIS in about an hour," I explain. "In fact, go. Just find somewhere and go. I've got errands to do, an' I don't need shadows. Just don't get lost or anythin'. Back at the TARDIS in an hour, yeah?" Instead of letting them respond, I haul arse over to one of my favourite stands in this outdoor-market-style trading post: Mishaela.  
"Mish!" I call to her, grabbing her attention. "Misha, you bitch, don't you hide my goods from me!"

* * *

"Oi! Family!" I shout through my home over Katy Perry's 'This Is How We Do'. "Unless you wanna starve to death, I've got food! Mum, Dad, Sam, Dean, get a move on!"  
One more trick that Sam-ster told me about that I could try...  
"I made pie!"  
Thundering footsteps on the TARDIS floors in through her halls answer my call, and I laugh. A panting Dean Winchester pokes his head through the doorway.  
"_Please_ tell me you're not bullshitting me on this," he practically begs, his beautiful hazel green eyes bright with excitement.  
"Now, why would I do that?" I smile playfully. _What the all-living _frick_ did I just call his eyes?_ "Hold up, I love this song!"  
5 Seconds Of Summer equals love from me to them, oh my goddess.  
_"You're like perfection, some kind of holiday _  
_You got me thinking that we could run away _  
_You want I'll take you there, _  
_You tell me when and where, _  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh,"_ I sing along with Luke, dancing through the kitchen and putting platters and bowls of food on the table.  
"What the hell is this?" he laughs at my antics and gestures to he song.  
"Don't hate on my 5SOS!" I mockingly point a wooden spoon in his direction.  
"5 sauce?  
"5SOS. 5-S-O-S."  
"Why not call it that?"  
"Because it doesn't work that way!" I argue. "Samuel Winchester! Get your arse out of that library and in the kitchen _now_!"  
"Has anyone ever told you how scary you are?" Dean asks me mockingly.  
"Yes," I say simply, pulling the pie out of the oven and setting it on top of the stove. "And Sam-ster has told me all about your pie addiction, mister. You can have some after dinner."  
Wait a second. We have a cat now.  
"Zoey! Here, kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty!" I call for her, reaching into the refrigerator and finding cans of wet cat food waiting for me. I give a silent thank-you to my beloved time-ship, open a can, and set it on the floor to where she can reach it easily. "Sam!" I shout again.  
"Do you not have like an intercom system or anything?" Dean asks.  
"See, Time Lords are telepathic. We didn't need intercom systems or anything, because the only species allowed on board were Time Lords. They were, ah, a little... pompous, you could say. Pompous bastards, the lot of them. Fuck it, Sammy can starve. Mum and Dad, too. Sit down, I'll dish us up." I grab two plates out of the cupboard as Ed Sheeran's 'Bloodstream' comes on.  
"What is it?" Dean asks, guessing a random drawer and finding flatware in it.  
"Best damn chicken you'll ever taste. It's my grandmum's recipe," I start to explain. "It's chicken in a sort of cheese sauce. Mine pales in comparison, but it's okay. Good over rice."  
"So... healthy."  
"Good, though. Shut up and eat." I grab two beers and set them on the table along with our food.

* * *

Dean loved my chicken, and my moonberry pie even more. After talking half the day (night?) away in the kitchen, I show him to a spare room and just don't leave, plopping onto the bed next to him.  
"When was the last time you slept?" he asks all of a sudden.  
"Could ask you the same," I trace the blood veins on the strong muscles of his arm. "Tell you what, why don't we both take a catnap? You look exhausted, and so'm I." I pull off my sweater, set my glasses on the table, pull my iPod out of my pocket, and kick off my sneakers and curl up into his side.  
"How come everyone spoke English earlier, at the trading post? Language gets that popular or something?" he asks, leaning away from me to pull off his shirt. _Sweet holy mother of the goddess._  
"Because, the TARDIS has this translation matrix. Gets inside your head and translates everythin' like that," I click my fingers. "That's all she does, though, is translate. Can't get inside your thoughts if you don't want 'er to." He lets me curl into his side again, and I do, closing my eyes and breathing in the musky smell that is Dean Winchester.  
"How long do Time Lords live?"  
Didn't expect _that_ one.  
"Oh, um, it depends."  
"On?"  
"On how many times that particular Time Lord gets himself killed. See, we have this... trick, you could call it, that we use to cheat death." I yawn, realizing I'm more tired than I first thought, and curl up closer to him, resting my head on his bare chest, listening to his heart beat. Involuntarily, I close my eyes. "We can... um... live long, but it depends on how fast we get ourselves nearly killed."  
And I'm out for the count.

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5: Nightmares part one (NIS)

**Hello, lovelies! The ever-promised Doctor Who episode has arrived, and you'll understand why I chose this one later on. Not betaed, so any mistakes are mine. Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me. Lyra is mine, but only her dad and mum call her that. She prefers Hazel. She's cool like that.**

**I got one review last chapter, which is better than none, I guess. If you want to know how to review, see the previous chapter. I posted a how-to on the A/N at the top.** giddyfan** is the only one that has _ever_ reviewed my story! C'mon, readers, we can do better than that! Even if it's a review saying you hate it, let me know! (Of course, I would prefer you'd be nice, but...) And I _know_ people are actually reading it, based on the traffic it gets.**

**In conclusion, read it, love it, review it (instructions are in the last chapter for those who don't know how to review).**

**P.S., to my lovely cousin, miss O.F.F. (you know who you are, sweets!), text me when you get this far!**

**alyssianagrace**

**24/09/14**

Chapter Five: Nightmares part one (NIS)

I wake up slowly, revelling in the warmth. It takes me a bit to realize that the warmth isn't coming from me, or the blankets, but from the person I'm cuddling up with.

He looks younger in sleep, peaceful. Not as many lines on his face from worry or stress. His eyes closed. A slight smile on his face.

I curl up closer to him, my head on his bare chest, my ear against his heart. His grip on me tightens, and I smile.

"Are you awake?" I ask softly.

"No," is the reply I get, his voice rough from sleep. I laugh once, but keep my voice quiet.

"I think you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm sleeping." He buries his face further into the pillow.

"Fine, sleepyhead," I give up, moving his arm from my side and getting up.

He makes a noise of protest. "Where are you going? Come back. I'm cold now."

"Sorry, sweetheart," I smile, then spontaneously kiss his cheek. "Some of us have to take a shower." I grab his flannel from off the floor and shrug it on, wanting something on my arms. "And quit looking at my arse!"

* * *

Walking out in a pink crop top that says 'Heart breaker', Dean's plaid shirt on my arms, and high-waisted jeans, I pad out in socks into the kitchen, where my boys are looking in the refrigerator for food.

"Hungry?" I ask, making my presence known. Dean hits his head on the shelf in the fridge and Sammy laughs from the table.

"Son of a bitch, a little _warning_ next time!" he fumes, making me smile as he rubs the affected area.

"Get out of my food, Winchester. I'll get stuff for sandwiches."

"Angel, you are, I swear to God."

"Down, boy," Sam laughs at his brother.

"Quit being such a stick in the mud, Sammy," Dean snaps at his younger brother.

"Boys," I warn. "Be nice, or you'll starve."

They both wisely shut up as I set food on the table in front of them.

"Go crazy," I tell them, grabbing two slices of bread for myself. Amaryll tree nut butter from Alvega, moonberry jam, and Oskerion's version of bananas go on my sandwich. Mmm-mmm-mmm.

"Haze, what's this?" Dean holds up a container.

"Oops, didn't mean to grab that," I take the jar from him and put it back in the refrigerator. Then I look at the table and realize I should probably take some of those other things back. "Or that. Sorry. I forget that I can have things you can't."

"Aren't you part human, though?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, but I've got a Time Lord metabolism. Which means this stuff won't kill me." I take a bite out of my sandwich. "So! Adventure today, yeah? Who's with me?"

"Definitely one-hundred percent adventure day," my dad walks in the kitchen, looks in the refrigerator, and grabs a bowl of custard. Then, he digs around in the freezer for frozen fish sticks, and pops them in the microwave. "We just gotta pick up Clara and we can go anywhere and anywhen."

"That's right, you have a new companion. How comes she doesn't stay on board?"

"Because she doesn't want to. She wants to live her life, too."

"Strange," I take another bite. "Admirable, but strange. Let me guess, she picks?"

"Not sure yet. Oi!" he protests when I swipe a finger of custard. He takes a now-cooked fish finger and dips it in the custard, swirling it around knowing I can't stand fish.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I know. Have you fixed my sonic yet?"

"Yep, fixed it while you were napping."

"Oi, I've had a long day!"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, darling. It works perfect now." He finishes the fish finger, wipes his hand on his coat, and shoves his arm in his pocket elbow-deep until he finds my red sonic and hands it to me.

"Is this gonna blow up in my face if I try it?"

"Very funny, Lyra. Just test it out."

"Remember the toaster incident?"

Dad plays dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Try the sonic, or don't, I don't care." He grabs the bowl of custard and a handful of fish fingers and walks out of the kitchen.

"I love you, Daddy!" I call after him.

"Yeah, yeah," he waves off.

"He's not mad. Now, come on, boys! Adventure's callin'!"

* * *

My dad pokes his head out of the TARDIS doors, then Clara, Angie and Artie, and then me.

"This doesn't look right," I tell him. He ignores me and steps out of the TARDIS, arms wide.

"Well, here we are. Hedgewick's World- the biggest and best amusement park there will ever be and we've got a golden ticket!"

"I thought the best amusement park was the Disneyplanet," I speak up.

"No, it's not, now hush. This is more fun!"

"Fun?" Clara asks sceptically, walking out of the TARDIS herself.

"Your stupid box can't even get us to the right place. This is, like, a moon base or something," Angie says.

"Oi, don't hate the box! Hate the driver!" I wink at her.

"It's not the moon," Dad steps down from his rock.

"Actually, I think it does look like the moon. Only dirtier," Artie adds.

"Hey, guys, it's not the moon, okay? It's a Spacey Zoomer ride, or it was."

"What year are we stuck in now?" I ask him.

"We're not stuck anywhere."

"Why are we on the moon?" Dean asks.

"It's not the moon!" Dad snaps.

A door opens in one of the larger rocks and a man pokes his head out.

"Psst!" he gets our attention. "Excuse I, I don't suppose you happen to be my lift off planet? Dave's Discount Interstellar Removals?"

"'Fraid not," Clara tells him.

"They were meant to be here six months ago. That's Dave for you, see, unreliable."

"Stay where you are!" a woman off in the distance orders.

"Oops," he says before ducking back inside.

A group of soldiers followed by a woman (who I assume is in charge) walks towards us.

"Throw down your weapons and identify yourselves," she demands. Clara moves to stand in front of the children, and I grab Dean's hand.

"No! No weapons! Golden ticket! Spacey Zoomer?" my dad bounces on his feet. "Free ice cream?"

"I'll take some ice cream," I speak up. "Got any moonberry/cloudberry sherbet?"

"Who are you? This planet is closed by Imperial order."

"How's this?" Dad holds out his psychic paper.

"Oh. Welcome, Proconsul. I wish they'd told us you were coming. Any news of the Emperor?" her demeanour changes like that.

"Oh, the Emperor... No, no, none that you'd, er..."

"We pray for his return. If there is anything you need, my platoon is at your service."

"Right! Righty-oh. Well, carry on, Captain," he salutes her, and she returns it.

"Platoon, let's move out. On the double. Two, three, four! Two, three, four! Two, three, four!" she orders her soldiers, and they march away the way that they came.

"'Proconsul'?" I question him.

"Is that what it says?" he wonders, turning the psychic paper around so he can see it.

"Have they gone?" the man peeks his head out again.

"Yes," Dad answers him.

"Uniforms. Give me the heebie-jeebies. Come on." He starts walking and we follow. "They can't stop me being here, but they don't like it!"

"Ha, ha! Y'see? told you it was amazing!" Dad says, looking out of a viewing platform. "Well, it used to be."

"See? See? What'd I tell ya? Adventure!" I speak up.

"Okay, this is pretty cool," Sam admits.

"It closed down. Wish I'd known that before I landed here."

"Bit of advice for next time, sir? Research where you're going."

"Good idea, miss. But let me show you my collection. Come along. Follow me. This way. This way in. Come on! Welcome to my ship, Webley's World of Wonders." He leads us through another doorway into the interior of a space ship. There's red panelling on the walls, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and life-size figures lining the walls. "Miracles, marvels, and more await you. I am Impresario Webley. You see before you waxwork representations. Of the famous..." he chuckles, "and the infamous. Anybody here play chess? Perhaps you, young man."

"Actually, I'm in my school chess club," Artie tells him.

"Ah, follow me."

"Next time, Dad," I pat him on the shoulder.

"Oh, kit off," he moves my hand.

"Now, let me demonstrate to you all the wonder of the age, the miracle of modernity. We defeated them all a thousand years ago but now he's back to destroy you. Behold, the enemy!"

He pulls back the sheet and I scream.

"Cyberman! Get down!" Dad orders.

_Don't have to tell me twice!_

"No need to panic, my young friends," Webley, who I believe is some kind of psycho, tries to reassure. "We all know there are no more living Cybermen." _Bullshit._ Dad whips out his sonic and starts scanning the thing, and I hold on to Dean's arm with all the lives in me. "What you are seeing is a miracle. The 699th wonder of the universe. Um, as displayed before the Imperial Court and only here to destroy you... at chess! Careful now. An empty shell. And yet it moves. How?"

"Dad?" I ask cautiously.

"Magic," Angie scoffs.

"That might well be, young lady. But a single penny wins you five Imperial shillings if you can beat this empty shell at chess."

"Harmless, as far as I can tell, Lyra," Dad tells me, and I don't bother correcting him about my name.

"I haven't got a penny, but I've got a sandwich!" Artie tells the psycho excitedly.

"All right. Take a seat," Webley accepts the bet and the sandwich. "It is free of all devices and yet it has never been beaten."

"You okay?" Dean asks me in a low voice.

"No," I admit softly.

Artie moves a white pawn on the chess board, and I unconsciously flinch when the Cyberman does the same.

"Hey, uh, Dad, I'm gonna head back to the TARDIS for a second. Forgot my-my mobile." I release Dean and nearly dart out of there.

Reaching the TARDIS, I push open her doors and slam them behind me, locking them for good measure. Then I take a few shaky breaths, sliding onto the floor in hopes that I won't freak out.

"It's not real, it can't hurt me, there's just the one," I repeat almost silently in Gallifreyan. "I've got my sonic pistol, don't I, and my screwdriver. I'm fine. I'm fine. It can't get me, I'm fine."

Building up my courage (and having a sneaking suspicion the TARDIS is helping me), I kiss her doors before unlocking them and walking back out.

Okay. I'm good. Freak-out over. Yep. All good. A-OK and all that shit.

"Lyra! Spacey Zoomer ride! Wanna have a go?"

"Hell yeah!" I shout back and start running.

Then I'm running on nothing.

"Son of a bitch, what the hell is this?" I hear Dean shout.

"Dean, calm down," Sam says.

"Oh, come off it, hardened hunters! This is fun! Woo hoo!" I do a somersault in the air, my mood immediately lifted. "Live a little!"

Dean stays completely still with his arms crossed.

"Hazel! Not fun!"

"Bullshit!"

"Oi, language! Children about!" Dad protests from the ground.

I stealthily swim through the air behind Dean, grab his arm, and flip him over so he's spinning. He lets out a surprised shout, making me beam in satisfaction. Sam and the kids start laughing, but the older Winchester looks absolutely livid.

When he's right again, he informs me, "You do realize this warrants _revenge_ right, Hazel?"

"I've been around anti-gravity my whole life. One time, the artificial gravity went out in the TARDIS for a _week_. Bring it on, Winchester."

"Oh, you're dead," he laughs, trying to grab me but snags a nice handful of air as I scoot away.

"Is that all the big, bad, hunter-extraordinaire Dean Winchester can do? I wonder why all the demons are scared of you."

He lunges for me again.

"Ten bucks says she wins," Sam whispers to Angie and Artie.

"No way! We're not taking that bet!" they protest.

"Seriously, Sammy?" Dean asks, annoyed. "Betting _against_ me? I'm your brother!"

While he's distracted, I sneak up behind him and knock him down (well, as down as you can get on anti-grav).

"And the crowd goes crazy!" I beam, mimicking the sounds of a crowd roaring in a stadium.

"Just wait until we're back in our own time, princess, and I'll _so_ kick your ass."

"Oh, sweetie, you couldn't even if you tried," I wink at him.

"Oi, you two! Stop fighting!" Clara orders, and I smile at her.

"Yeah, _Dean_, stop fightin'."

"Hey, you started it!"

"An' I'm endin' it, yeah?"

"Keep her. I like her," I tell my dad, causing him and Clara to smile. I watch her snap a few photos with her camera mobile, so I sneak behind Dean again and do the bunny ears with my fingers.

A short man turns off the anti gravity, and we fall slowly back to the ground.

"Eh? Fun!" I beam.

"I think that was the most fun I've had in my whole life," Artie smiles.

"If you think that's fun, you should try the trampoline park on Amusay III. Half the planet, completely trampolines! Have to go before 4580, though, 'cause after that, there's this huge war, and the planet gets destroyed."

"Clara? I think outer space is very interesting."

"It is, isn't it?" I smile at the boy and ruffle his hair.

"Right, wonderful day out, Doctor, but it's time to get the kids home," Clara says, walking towards the TARDIS.

"Yeah. Um, no. Not actually ready to leave," he says.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Reasons."

"What reasons?"

"Insects. Funny insects. I should add them to my funny insect collection."

"You collect funny insects?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to. Right now."

"Dad," I warn. "What are you on about?"

"You'll see!"

* * *

"How long do we have to stay here?" Angie moans on the sofa.

"Not long. Have a nap," Dad suggests. "I'll wake you when we're ready to leave."

"Is he crazy?" Sam whispers.

"Haven't you heard? All the best people are," I beam as my dad hits the lights.

"All right, don't wander off! Now, I'm not just saying, 'Don't wander off,' I mean it. Otherwise, you'll wander off. And the next thing you know, somebody's going to have to start rescuing somebody."

"From what?" Angie asks.

"Nothing! Dad! Quit scaring them! Oh, what the hell d'ya thing you're doing?" I rip the sonic from his face.

"Don't wander off. An' give me that." He snags his sonic back. "Sweet dreams," he smiles and tosses the sonic in the air, then tucks it in his pocket and walks out. I follow him.

"Now that you've scared the children..."

"I did not scare them, now hush up a minute."

"Was this really the biggest amusement park in the universe?" Clara asks the short man.

"Yeah," he answers. "Hedgewick bought the planet cheap. It had been trashed in the Cyberwars."

"Hold on, you can buy a whole planet?" Dean interrupts.

"Yes, you can, if you're really rich, now don't interrupt," I tell him off.

"Have we met?" the man asks me.

"I don't believe so. I'm Hazel, nice to meet you."

"Porridge, nice to meet you, too." We shake hands.

"Who were we fighting?" Sam asks.

"Cybermen. Technologically upgraded warriors."

"I wouldn't put it that way," I mutter.

"Either way, we couldn't win. Sometimes we fought to a draw but then they'd upgrade themselves, fix the weaknesses and destroy us."

"Hard to fight an enemy that uses your army as spare parts, innit?"

"Exactly," he agrees.

"You beat them, though. You beat them or you wouldn't be here. How?" Clara asks.

"Look up there," he points. "That corner of sky, what do you see?"

"Nothing. It's just black. No stars, no nothing."

"Well, it used to be the Tiberian Spiral Galaxy. A million star systems, a hundred million worlds, a billion trillion people. It's not there any more. No more Tiberian Galaxy. No more Cybermen. And because of a special project they were working on, they were distracted. It was effective."

"It's horrible."

"Yeah. I feel like a monster sometimes."

"Why?" she asks him.

"Because instead of mourning a billion trillion dead people, I just feel sorry for the poor blighter who had to press the button and blow it all up."

"Clara, did you tell Angie she could go to the barracks?" Dad calls, sticking his head out of something metal.

"You know I didn't... She hasn't."

He waves his magnifying glass. "She's just gone in there."

"Come on," she gestures to Dad, and he follows her. So do we.

* * *

"So, tell me about the little bloke," the blonde Captain asks Angie in the barracks.

"Well, you must have seen him."

"Angie!" Clara shouts to her.

"She always has to turn up and spoil everything," the child moans. "I wasn't doing anything! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

There's a big screeching sound, like metal on metal, and we all turn to the door.

_Goddess-fucking-dammit. You've_ got_ to be kidding me._

"Cyberman!" the Captain shouts.

"Angie!" Dad yanks her behind him.

"Attack formation!" she orders.

The Cyberman starts attacking one of the soldiers, moving at lightning-fast speeds and sucker punches him. Some other ones tip a table over, and we hide behind it.

"Attack formation-quickly!"

The soldiers start firing at it.

"There's only one of them," Sam says, confused.

"One of those things could wipe out this entire planet," I explain bluntly as they start shooting at it. Even my boys start shooting at it, which makes me smile fondly despite the fear and utter panic my human side feels.

"Upgrade in progress," the Cyberman says.

"Angie!" Clara yanks her back as Dad scans the Cyberman. The once-human metal creature takes Angie and runs out the back. "Angie!"

"Clara, Clara!" Dad darts after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

"That was a Cyberman. But they're extinct!" the Captain snaps angrily.

"Obviously not, Captain, because one just managed to kick your arse."

"You listen to me, little girl-"

"Ten units says I'm older than you."

"Listen to me, I will get her back. Lyra, quit bating the Captain. Captain, a word, please!" Dad walks over to her. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I take it your platoon doesn't do much fighting."

"What do you expect?"

"What?" Clara demands.

"We're a punishment platoon. That's why they sent us out here, so we can't get into trouble."

_Wrong thing to say._

"Right, right, well, okay. As Imperial consul, I'm putting Clara in charge. Clara, stay alive until I get back. And don't let anyone blow up this planet." He clicks his fingers and starts walking before I stop him.

"Are you _crazy_? You're gonna get yourself killed!" I grab his arm roughly.

"Lyra, listen to me," Dad turns to face me. "They're not gonna get me, I promise. I'm not gonna get myself killed, understand? I've got to get Angie and Artie, and then we can go to the TARDIS and get the hell out of here. I swear, _they will not get you_."

I nod with tears in my eyes.

"D'ya trust me?"

"Yes," I say weakly, wiping my eyes.

"That's my girl," he hugs me tight, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before turning to leave.

"Is that something they're likely to do, blow up the planet?" Clara asks.

"Get to somewhere defensible."

"Where are you going?"

"Like I said, I'm getting Angie, finding Artie, and looking for funny insects. Stay alive. And you lot, no blowing up this planet! 'Cause if Clara can't stop you, then my daughter will, and that is one creature you _don't_ want to get on the wrong side of!"

"Oi!" I protest. "I'm _not_ that bad!"

And he's gone.

"Cyberiad-class weaponry. I've taken it out of storage," the Captain informs Clara.

"What exactly are we up against?" Dean asks me, with Sam standing right next to him.

"Okay," I say, thinking. "What is the biggest problem you two are facing on Earth right now?"

"The Apocalypse," Sam says without hesitation.

"Not even on the map compared to these things. A single Cyberman could kill a human with one shot, and our weapons do absolutely nothing. Not yours, not mine."

"So... we're screwed."

"Pretty much," I answer Dean.

"Oi! No quitter talk!" Clara interrupts. "We need to find somewhere defensible, where?"

"The Beach," the Captain hits a map with a collapsible pointer. "Giant's Cauldron. Natty Longshoe's Comical Castle."

"Real castle? Drawbridge? Moat?"

"Yes, but comical."

"We'll go there."

"Ma'am, my platoon can deal with one Cyberman, and there are protocols if we cannot immediately find and destroy it."

"Blowing up the planet protocols?"

"Respectfully, ma'am-"

"Somewhere defensible. No blowing up the planet."

"She's you commanding officer now, isn't she, Captain?" Porridge makes his presence known.

"Yes," she says after a moment or three. "Sir."

"You really saw a Cyberman?"

"We really did."

"Have you reported it to the Imperium?"

"No communicators."

"So you're going to do what she says? Right, let's all spend the night at Natty Longshoe's Comical Castle."

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6: Nightmares part two (NIS)

**Hola, chillens! Being sick means I can write more:) Bad thing is I actually have my homework that I should be doing instead of this, so I'm posting this while my mom goes and gets my sister:D My brother is also home, and has taken my little kitten hostage. But, that's a personal problem.**

**Only one review last chapter? And from the only reviewer I have ever had? Oh well. I guess I'll survive. Be nice of you could review this chapter. Might make me write faster;)**

**Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me. Such a shame, too. I also apologize if any of the characters seem out of character. Feedback is appreciated!**

**alyssianagrace  
30.09.14**

* * *

Chapter Six: Nightmares part two (NIS)

"Ah! Don't shoot, don't shoot! I'm nice! Please, don't shoot," I hear from outside the castle. I follow Clara out and see my dad holding... a chess board? "Hey, Clara, you haven't let them blow up the planet. Good job."

"Did you get the kids? Are they all right? What's going on?"

"What is _that_?" I point to what looks to me like a Cybernetic implant covered by the golden ticket on his face. My fear spikes, but I don't let it show.

"Um, bit of a good news, bad news, good news again thing going on. So," he begins as Clara cocks and loads the anti-Cyber gun, "good news, I kidnapped the Cyberplanner and right now I'm sort of in control of this Cyberman."

"You did _what_?" I gasp.

"No need to worry, Lyra, I have it all under control."

"Yeah, and that's what you said when you regenerated and we _crash landed_ in Amelia Pond's backyard! _Crashed!_"

"Bad news?" Clara interrupts.

"Bad news, the Cyberplanner is in my head and, different bad news, the kids are... well, it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Oh, I recognize that look. That's the look Mum gave Dad when he took me to a 1950's ice cream shop when I was supposed to be doing my homework. Yeah, Dad's dead. Death by pissed off human.

"Complicated as in walking coma." He lifts the chess board to protect his face and ducks away, hiding behind the children as Clara freaks out and rushes to them.

She aims the gun at him. "Please tell me you can wake them up."

"Hope so!"

Ooh, she's pissed. If I don't kill him first, she will.

"Other good news?" Clara clips out, moving around the children to get to Dad again.

"Well, in other good news, there are a few more repaired and reactivated Cybermen on the way and the Cyberplanner's installing a patch for the gold thing. No, wait, that isn't good news, is it? Um, so, good news, I have a very good chance of winning my chess match!"

"What?"

"I'll explain later."

"Are you _trying_ to give your _only_ daughter a _double-heart attack_?" I nearly scream at him.

"I'll explain later! In a bit of a hurry. Get me to a table! And somebody tie me up! Need hands free for chess. But immobilise me. Quickly." And with that, he runs into our little fortress and sets up his chess board.

"If you don't kill him," Clara trails off.

"Oh, don't worry," I assure her. "I will."

* * *

"Right, that's good. I won't be able to move but hands free, good."

"You're playing chess with yourself?" she asks him.

"And winning." And then he rips the golden ticket off and the lights on his face start blipping again.

_That's it, you're done,_ the Time Lord part of me addresses the cowering, fearful human part. _You're stronger than this. Don't let them win!_

"Actually," my dad's voice changes, and I know it's not him but the Cyberplanner, "he has no better than a twenty-five percent chance of winning at this stage in the game. Some very dodgy moves at the beginning. Hello, flesh girl. Fantastic! I'm the Cyberplanner."

"Doctor?" she asks cautiously.

"Afraid not. I'm working the mouth now. _Allons-y!_ Oh, you should see the state of these neurons. He's had some cowboys in here. Ten complete rejigs."

"It's like he's... possessed," Sam says to Dean.

"Exactly," he mutters back. "What do we do?"

"Absolutely nothing," I snap lowly. "You'll do nothing, understand?"

"You aren't the Doctor," Clara says.

"No, but I know who you are. You're the impossible girl. Oh, he's very interested in you."

"Why am I impossible?"

"Hasn't he told you, the sly devil? Dear me. Listen. Soon we wake. We'll strip you down for spare parts, then build a spaceship and move on."

"More Cybermen?"

"They're waking from their tomb right now. You can either die or live on as one of us."

"The Doctor will stop you," Clara vows as the Cyberplanner starts writing on a piece of paper.

"He can't even access the lips."

Clara reads the paper, then slaps him!

"Ow! Ow! Oh, that hurt. No, stop, enough, bit of pain, neural surge, just what I needed. Thank you." And he's back!

"Why am I the impossible girl?"

"It's just a thing in my head, I'll explain later."

"Chess game. Stakes?"

"If he wins, I give up my mind and he gets access to all my memories along with knowledge of time travel and my daughter, but if I win, he'll break his promises to get out of my head and then kill us all anyway."

"That's not reassuring!"

"No."

"You bet your own _daughter_?" she asks angrily.

"I can explain that, too! They want her either way!"

"Please tell me you can fix whatever happened to the children," she sighs.

"Children. Yeah, they're fine. I mean, right now their brains are just in standby mode."

"That is not _fine_!"

"Listen. Right now, they have a much better chance of getting out of this situation alive than you do."

"Which one of you said that?" she steps back.

"Me, Cyberplanner. Mr Clever," his voice changes again. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a chess game to finish. And you have to die, pointlessly and very far from home. Toodle-oo."

Clara stomps away and yanks me along with her.

"What do the Cybermen want with you?"

"What?" I try to play it off.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Hazel."

I sigh, knowing she wasn't going to let this go.

_Hello, Hazel the Time Lord. No emotion, no fear, just cold, hard facts._

"Once upon a time, they exploited and took advantage of the part-human side of me and tried to... _perform an upgrade_. That's all I'm telling you."

"Fine." She lets me go and turns to one of the soldiers. "Apparently, there are more Cybermen on the way."

"There's at least a dozen more shots left in the gun before it needs to recharge," the soldier with the huge-framed glasses tells her.

"We might have more than a dozen Cybermen to worry about. What's that cable?"

"Power line for the park," Porridge tells her.

"What would happen if we unhooked the end, dropped it into the moat and turned it on?"

"Fry anything alive that entered the water," a different soldier explains.

"Can Cybermen fly?"

"Nope," I answer her, a tongue-in-teeth smile forming on my face. "This plan is mad, but _brilliant_! I can see why he keeps you around."

"Please! _I_ keep _him_ around. Do it!"

I dart over and switch the power off, while they cut the cord and drop it into the moat. Then I switch it back on, and I can hear the electricity humming. Another soldier rolls a wheel up to pull up the drawbridge.

* * *

"There. Get that in you. Warm you up," Porridge hands Clara a cup of soup.

"Oh, thank you, Porridge," she takes it gratefully and drinks from it.

"Hey! Clara!" my dad calls from where he's still tied down. At least, I _think_ it's my dad, and not the Cyberplanner. But I'm not sure anymore.

I slide down the wall and plop next to Sam, who has his own soup, my legs drawn into my chest and my head tucked down. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," I admit with a groan.

"I'll see what he wants," Clara says, walking off with her soup. "Call me if there's any change!"

"Would you like some soup, Hazel?" Porridge offers.

"No, but, thank you." I'm not hungry, and, even if I was, I can't eat with what is going on. My dad has a Cybernetic implant for Christ's sake! There's Cybermen lying in wait to be activated, and they want me. And, on top of all that, I brought my new friends with me, who just happen to be human!

"Hey, guys," Dean greets, sitting down next to me so I'm in the middle of the two men. "Soup's good. Want some, Haze?"

"I shouldn't have brought you here," I say softly.

"What?"

"I _said_," I lift my head up and raise my voice, "'I shouldn't have brought you here.'"

"Why not?" Sam asks.

"It was a bad idea. I should've just stayed on Earth in your own time with you. I should've told them to piss off, and go away. Instead, I got you into this mess, and I'm sorry."

"Haze, it's not your fault."

"D'you know how Cybermen are made, Sam?"

"No."

"They take humans. They take 'em to a factory, or their base, or wherever they can, an' they carve out their brains and stuff them into an empty Cyberman. They carve out all the emotion, so they don't regret their decisions and aren't horrified of what they've become. God, I'm so stupid," I laugh self-depreciatively. "Can't do a simple planet-wide life form scan. Didn't even think of it." I drop my head down against my knees, hard. I'm such an idiot."

"Hazel!" Clara calls me.

"I've got to go. Bein' summoned, y'see. M'sure you can hear 'er; Dad's latest human's got a set of lungs on 'er." Pushing off Dean's shoulder, I stand and walk towards Clara's voice. "You rang?"

"Look," is all she says, pointing to the window. I do what she says and walk over to the window, where I see Cybermen. Plural. Definitely more than one. _Thousands._

I swear in Gallifreyan, and take a deep breath.

"Okay, what do we got?"

"One gun, five hand pulsars, and a planet-squashing bomb that doesn't work anymore," Clara answers me.

"Why not?" the soldier with glasses asks.

"Broken trigger unit."

"But you signed for that."

"That doesn't matter right now," I tell them. They look out the window with me and watch as a Cyberman steps into the water.

"Brilliant," Clara laughs.

_"Upgrade in progress."_

"Not so brilliant," I quip.

"Damn. Who's our best shot?"

"Probably it's me," a different soldier informs her.

"Shoot any of them who make it across. The rest of you, take defensive positions," she orders, giving him the anti-Cyber gun. "Porridge?"

"Yes?" he answers her.

"Keep yourself safe," Clara tells him, and he heads off.

"What can we do?" Dean asks Clara.

"Your guns won't do a thing against them," I inform him almost apologetically. "But I've got an idea. Stay!" I march away from them, and make my way to the throne room where my dad's tied up.

"I was wondering when you would stop by," the Cyberplanner says, not looking up from the chess board.

"Call them off," I demand.

"No."

"Call them off!"

"Now, why would I do that?"

"People are gonna die. Good, _honest_ people."

"So are my people. You're forgetting that Cybermen are a species, too, little girl."

"I am _not_ a little girl."

"Oh, believe me, I know." The Cyberplanner sets his chess piece down and bores his eyes into mine. "You may look and sound different, but I know who you are."

"Never claimed to be any different."

"Yes, you have. You _regenerated_. You _are_ different."

"I couldn't have survived any other way."

"You _could_ have. If your daddy hadn't 'rescued' you from me."

I don't have a response to that, so I continue to stare at the eyes that aren't my dad's, sheer hatred in mine at the thing that has done this to him.

"Call. Them. Off."

"Only if Daddy Dearest wins the chess match."

"He will. But until then, I will take immense pleasure in destroying your so-called 'children'."

"Good luck with that! Your stupid moat trick may have worked once, but my children have upgraded themselves. Your _precious_ humans are going to be upgraded or used for parts. Now," his attention turns internal, "you can take my bishop and keep limping on for a little longer, or you can sacrifice your queen and get the children back. But it's mate in five moves. And I get your mind."

"Take my queen and give me back the children." Dad makes a chess move, and the Cyberplanner comes back.

"Emotions! Can't you see what a foolish move that was? You've lost the game!"

"Kids! Back! Now!"

The Cybernetic implants in the children switch off, and they fall to the floor.

"Angie! Artie! Are you okay?" I dart over to them.

"Emotions, Doctor. All for two human children you barely know."

"I'm okay," Angie answers me. "What are you doing here?"

"Someone's got to watch after the idiot Time Lord," I crack a small smile.

"So, Doctor, do you think the children's death will affect your relationship with Miss Clara?"

Porridge runs in carrying the bomb, stopping at the doorway.

"Welcome to Webley's World of Wonders, children. Now presenting Delights, Delicacies, and Death."

"Back up, psycho!" I order, raising my sonic pistol. My distraction working, Porridge sneaks up and uses a hand pulsar on his leg. But Cyber-Webley kicks him away, and his head cracks on the ground. "Porridge?"

"Angie, are you okay? Just look after Artie, okay? Lyra, keep them-aah!"

"Daddy says 'hi'," the Cyberplanner smiles perversely at me.

"You're so _thick_, Cyberplanner."

"Really? Because I'm winning."

"Your move," my dad's back. "But before you take it, just so you know, sacrificing my queen was the best possible move I could have made. The Time Lords invented chess. It's our game and if you don't avoid my trap, it gives _me_ mate in three moves."

"How? _How?_"

"Come on. Call yourself a chess-playing robot?"

"_How?_" the Cyberplanner yells.

"I learned this when I was seven years old," I scoff at the Cyberplanner.

"Hey, you figure it out," Dad laughs. "Or don't you have the processing power? Hmm? Wait. What are you doing?"

"Dad, what's he doing?"

"Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor. I'm pulling in extra processing power. Three million Cyberbrains working on one tiny chess problem. How long do you think it's going to take us to solve it?"

"That's cheating!"

"No, no, no, no, no. Just pulling in the local resources. There's no way you can get to mate in three moves."

"Three moves! You want to know what they are?"

"You're lying!"

"No!" he says, fighting against the Cyberplanner's control as he tries to grab the hand pulsar. I hop up and hand it to him. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"That better be you, Dad, otherwise I'll smack you."

"Move one, turn on sonic screwdriver. Move two, activate pulsar. Move three, amplify pulsar." One arm tries to push it to the Cybernetic implant, while the other stops him. "Lyra, sweetheart, a bit of help!"

"No, that's cheating!"

"No, it's not," I smile menacingly, grabbing the pulsar from his hand. "Just pulling in the local resources."

I shove it on the Cybernetic implant and don't relent as he shakes and gasps. It short circuits and his head drops to the table.

"Daddy?" I ask shakily. "If you're dead, I'm gonna kill you."

His head snaps up and he adjusts his bowtie, no Cybernetic implant on his face.

"Ah, hello. Could somebody untie me, please?"

Clara darts in with soldiers and my boys behind her.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asks.

"No. You're too short and bossy and your nose is all funny."

"Oi, I'm shorter than she is!" I protest. I seriously am. I'm only 157 centimetres tall. Five foot two to you Americans.

"Good enough. What happened to the Cyberplanner?"

"Out of my head and redistributed across three million Cybermen right now and about to wake them all up, kill us, and start constructing a spaceship. We need to destroy this planet before they can get off it!" He darts over to the bomb and scans it with his screwdriver. "Okay. It has a fallback voice activation."

"The Captain, but she's dead," a soldier stutters.

"I think you should ask Porridge," Angie says.

"Why?" Clara asks her.

"Well, he _is_ the Emperor. I bet _he_ knows the activation codes. Oh, come on, it's _obvious_. He looks _exactly_ like he does on the coin. And on the waxwork. Except they made him a bit taller. But look, am I the _only_ one paying attention to _anything_ around here?"

"Looks like it. Great job, high-five," I hold my hand up.

"You are full of surprises," Clara smiles. "Porridge?"

"She's right," he tells her.

"So you can save us?"

"We all die in the end. Does it matter how? I don't want to be emperor. If I activate that bomb, it's all over."

"And if you don't, three _million_ Cybermen will spread across the galaxy," Dad says bluntly.

"Angie and Artie's mum and dad won't know what happened to them," I add.

"Isn't that worth dying for?"

"Doctor... Hazel..."

"Three _million_ Cybermen."

"If they leave here, thanks to the knowledge gained from their 'special project'," I pull Dean's shirt tighter around me unconsciously, "that could turn to three _billion_, three _trillion_ by the end of today."

"The bomb, the throne, it's all connected. I just have to say, 'This is Emperor Ludens Nimrod Kendrick Cordlongstaff the forty-first, defender of humanity, Imperator of known space. Activate the desolator.' And it's done."

The bomb starts beeping, and Dad scans it.

"It'll blow in about eighty seconds, easily long enough for the Imperial flagship to locate me from my identification, warp jump into orbit, and transmat us to the state room."

"Holy shit!" Dean and Sam say when the surroundings immediately change at the end of Porridge's sentence.

"Calm down, boys," I chuckle.

"Nice ship. A bit big. Not blue enough. Listen, there is a large blue box at coordinates..." I tune him out and turn to my boys.

"Come watch this," I grab Dean's hand and pull him and Sammy over to the viewing window. "Sad, but cool."

"Seventy-six, seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine..." Porridge counts, and the planet explodes, shaking the whole ship. "Farewell, Cyberiad."

"They'll be back," I say emotionlessly. "They always come back. Like Daleks."

"How is it sad, Haze? Those sons of bitches are burning."

"I'm not sad about that, Dean. That was a planet. A living, breathing planet, and it's gone. Gone because a Cyberman crashed there, upgraded innocent people, and rebuilt its army and tried to destroy us. And the poor planet had to pay the price."

He stands and contemplates my words as he releases my hand and pulls me closer to him instead.

"That's pretty deep, Haze. Are you okay?"

"Honestly?" I ask him, tilting my head up so I can see into his eyes. "No. I just watched my dad get turned into a bloody Cyberman. I listened to said Cyberman's threats come out of his mouth. And then I shocked the implant off his face, and I thought I killed him." I blow out a sharp breath. "What about you? Are you okay? You just faced your first malicious alien."

"I'm always okay, Haze," he brushes off.

I tune in to the conversation behind me, resting my head on Dean's chest and closing my eyes.

"Of course, I could have you all executed, which is what a proper emperor would do," Porridge announces.

"You're not actually going to do that, though, are you? It's..." Dad stutters.

"Not a proper emperor," I reassure him, causing Porridge to laugh.

"Go on, get out of here. All of you. Before I change my mind." I walk with Dean's arm still around me back to the TARDIS. I take a seat on the pilot's seat and curl up my legs.

"All right, first stop, Angie and Artie's house." Dad pilots the ship to the correct place and time and lands with a dull thud.

"Thank you for having me. It was very interesting," Artie shakes his hand.

"My pleasure. Thank you for coming. Now, I've got something for you. It's not from me, it's from the TARDIS. Ah! New phone," he hands the device to Angie.

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome."

"Sorry I said this box was stupid."

"Bye!"

"Bye!

"Thanks, Clara! Thanks, Clara's boyfriend!"

"He's _married_!" I call back to Artie as they shut the door behind them.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"For what?" he turns to Clara.

"Kids day out, getting us off the planet alive, whatever you were doing with the Cybermen. Goodnight. See you next Wednesday!" she walks towards the door.

"Well, _a_ Wednesday, definitely. Next Wednesday, last Wednesday. One of the Wednesdays. Impossible girl. A mystery wrapped in an enigma, squeezed into a skirt that's just a little bit too tight. What are you?"

"Dad. Talking to yourself again. Got more stops to make."

"Yes, yes, of course. I knew that. So! Rock Ridge, Colorado! What date?"

"Twentieth of November, 2008. Go about two in the afternoon," I tell him, and he sets off.

"Y'know, sweetheart, something tells me that you're mad at me."

"'Mad' doesn't even begin to cover it, actually."

"So, on a scale of one to ten-"

"Seriously considering snapping your sonic screwdriver in half and throwing it in a black hole."

He stops pressing buttons on the console and looks at me almost hesitantly.

"You-you're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."

"Also seriously considering locking you out of the TARDIS, dumping you on some sort of abandoned planet, and leaving you there for about a hundred years."

"Lyra, sweetheart, I understand that you're mad-"

"Bloody hell, Dad! I'm not mad, I'm _livid_! I'm _pissed_!"

"I get that, and-"

"You promised me!" I get off the pilot seat and march over to him, getting up in his face. "You _promised_ me that you wouldn't let those-those _things_ get you!"

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"There is no 'but'. Dean! Stop snickering!" I turn my glare on Dean, who immediately sobers up.

"Well, if you wanted him to listen in-"

"You are _not_ getting out of this conversation!" Glare back on Dad. "I cannot _believe_ you _did_ that! Of course, I should've seen it _coming_, though, shouldn't've I?"

"What are you implying?"

"What am I _implying_? What am I _not_ implying? You've always got to run head first into danger!"

"So do you!"

"_Not_ when it's _Cybermen_!" I take a deep breath to calm my shaking nerves. "You know _exactly_ how I feel about those bastards, and you still jumped at the chance to play hero!"

"What did you expect me to do, Lyra?"

"I _expected_ you to not become one of them! God!" I clench and unclench my hands, itching to punch something. "I am so _mad_ at you right now!"

"I'm _sorry_, Lyra!"

"No," I laugh without humour. "You're not. You never _are_!"

"Where the _hell_ do you think you're going?" he shouts as I walk up the ramp and out the doors.

"Out!" I scream back, yanking them open and stomping out of the TARDIS. A few moments later, Sam and Dean walk out, and the ship disappears.

"Okay, _that_ was cool," Dean admits.

"Haze, are you okay?" Sam asks.

"Fine," I stay stiffly. "Actually, y'know, I have somewhere I need to be. I'll be back. Just..." I pull out my sonic and turn it on my vortex manipulator, "do you own thing and I'll come find you when I'm done. Yeah?" And then I disappear.

* * *

"Jack, I'm getting another reading," Tosh shouts through the Hub as I appear in the main room.

"No, it's just me," I reassure her.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" she immediately jumps up and embraces me.

"Nothing, I'm okay."

"I call bullshit."

"Tosh! Who are you talking to?" Jack calls through the Hub.

"S'just me, Jack," I tell him, breaking away from Tosh to look at the man with the greatcoat walking towards us.

"What are you doing here, 'S'just Me'?"

I crack a smile, but only a small one.

"I win!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"_No_, you _don't_," I cross my arms.

"_Yes_, I _do_. Haze, talk to me. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Nope. I call bullshit."

"You can't call bullshit."

"Yes, I can," he crosses his arms. "Now tell me."

I take a deep breath and blow it out. "Dad did somethin' stupid. So, I left before _I_ did somethin' stupid. You'd be proud; I tore 'im a new one. Screamin', threatenin', the whole nine yards. Oh, it was bad. _Is_ bad. Very not-good bad."

"Haze, I'm sure he did something to warrant it."

"Don't worry, he did," I laugh without humour, much like I did when we were fighting. "He's such an idiot sometimes."

"I believe it. C'mere." He holds his arms open and I do what I'm told, burying my face in his chest as my uncle holds me tight.

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7: Torchwood

**It has been scientifically proven that reviews make writers write faster. It has also been proven that donuts are delicious. I am sick STILL (damn colds), so I have time to write. I'm also schoolless at the moment. My mom's trying to get me into this online school, but I've been withdrawn from my now old school. Mini-vacation time for me! *beams***

**This chapter is mostly original, so if you don't like it, I don't care. Okay, I care a little bit. But I'm happy with this one, so it stays. Um, unbetaed, and I'm fifteen, so my writing might not be the best. Oh well! Anything you recognize is not mine. And Hazel is cool, and goes by many names (like three-ish. still not quite sure:)). SO! Her full, Time Lord name will be revealed!**

**Eventually:D had you going there, didn't I? Sorry not sorry.**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!**

**alyssianagrace**

**04.10.2014**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Torchwood

_Metal on metal screeching_

_Blood_

"Help me!"

_Blood-curdling screams_

"Make it stop!"

_Metal fused onto skin_

I wake with a start, my hearts racing. _No screaming. That's good._

I figured the nightmares would come back as soon as I saw the first Cyberman on Hedgewick's World. Jack, nosey that he is, demanded to know everything proceeding up to my fight with my father, and was consequently pissed and offered to send him into his next regeneration. Then, after forcing it out of him, he told me what happened recently in his timeline (the Year That Never Was). We then proceeded to get ourselves completely shit-faced, and passed out in his office. Me on the sofa, him on the floor.

"You okay?" he asks groggily; damn, I must've waken him.

"Fine," I say, trying to control my breathing. "What time is it?"

"About six. Ianto should be in soon with coffee."

"Thank the goddess," I groan, letting my head drop back on the sofa's armrest. "I'm hungover."

"That's what happens when you drink half a bottle of hypervodka," he laughs.

"And a case or two of beer."

"And that," he cracks a smile. "Who ever said that booze doesn't solve problems?"

"An idiot who's never had a drop in his life."

"Exactly. I'll go see if Ianto's here." He hops up way too fast, opens the door, and slams it shut, making me cringe.

"I hate you, Harkness!" I shout, making him laugh. My phone goes off, and I answer the video call with my eyes closed, the mobile lifted above my face, and a, "If you value your life, you will speak _quietly_."

He laughs.

_"You look like hell."_

"I _feel_ like hell. I downed over half a bottle of hypervodka last night. At least, I _think_ I did."

_"Where are you?"_

"Cardiff. Wales. Hey, um, sorry for vanishing like I did."

_"No big deal. God knows_ I've_ had those moments."_

He makes me smile, even though my eyes are still closed.

_"Do I get to see those eyes or are you gonna keep them closed?"_

"Don't be such a chick, Winchester. I'm _hungover_. Hung. Over. As in bad hangover."

_"Oh, you poor thing."_

I flip him off, making him laugh. Loudly.

"D'ya not understand what a hangover is, Winchester?"

_"I do have a first name, y'know."_

"I'll use it when you be _quieter_," I whisper the last word. "God, I need coffee."

_"What time is it over there?"_

"Six a.m. What about over there? Where are you?"

_"Sammy and I are in Concrete, Washington; so, about ten p.m."_

"Raining yet?"

_"When it rains, it pours."_

"That is absolutely true."

"Hazel!" Jack calls from downstairs. "Coffee!"

"Ianto coffee or instant coffee?" I shout down.

_"There's a difference?"_

"Ianto Jones is a coffee _god_," I assure Dean. "Makes your coffee seem like sludge."

_"You're not gonna leave me for coffee, are you?"_

"Mmm, considerin' it."

_"And here I thought we were friends."_

"I would _kill_ for coffee. You should know that by now."

_"Better than Starbucks?"_

"Starbucks is boiled _mud_ compared to Ianto coffee."

_"Mmm, sounds good. Bring me back some?"_

"Maybe. I don't think you're worthy enough yet."

"Hazel! You comin' or not?" Jack shouts.

"I'm comin'! God!" I open my eyes to look at Dean, and he smiles when I do. "I've got to go. But first, how did you call me?"

_"Ah, Sammy set me up,"_ he rubs the back of his neck, making me smile.

"And did you _ask_ Sammy to set you up?"

_"I plead the fifth."_

"What's that?"

_"It's, uh, never mind."_

"Whatever. Tell you what: you get some sleep, catch up on your Zzz's, and call me in the morning, your time, yeah?"

_"When are you gonna come back?"_

"Hazel! I'm gonna drink it!"

"Don't you dare! Jack bloody Harkness, if you drink my coffee, I'll kick your arse!"

_"Dude, you're hilarious when you're pissed."_

"Watch it, or I'll kick your arse, too."

_"No, you wouldn't, sweetheart. My ass is too delectable to be kicked."_

"Nice try."

_"Dean, go to bed already,"_ Sam moans, throwing a pillow and hitting his brother.

_"Sam! What the hell, I'm trying to have a conversation here!"_

_"Yeah, and it's late, and we've been driving all day and all night. Say goodbye to your girlfriend and shut up."_

_"We're not dating,"_ Dean and I say at the same time.

_"Goodnight, Hazel."_

"Night, Sammy. Sleep well."

_"Don't call me that."_

_"Later, Haze."_

"Bye, Dean." I hang up the Skype call and shove my mobile in my pocket, get off the couch, and make my way out of his office and down the stairs towards the kitchen. "Jack, if you drank my coffee-"

"Relax, there, princess, it's right here." Jack hands me the mug and I take a grateful sip of the warmth.

"Mmm, thank you, Ianto," I smile.

"Um, your hair-"

"Not one word," I take another drink, trying to smooth down the puffball that is my hair down with my free hand, clutching the blue mug in the other. "Jack, you spend hours on your hair, can I borrow your comb?"

"I don't spend _hours _on my hair. Do I even own a comb?"

"Yes, sir, you do," Ianto speaks up, drinking his own coffee.

_Damn._

"Whoo, it just got cold in here. I'm gonna go up to my room and take a shower. That is, unless you tore apart my room. Is my room the same way I left it?"

"Depends on how you left it. Last time you were here was, damn, one year ago? Two?"

"One and a half," Ianto clarifies.

"Damn, its freezing in here. Warm it up in here, but don't make it steamy, yeah?" Covering the mug with one hand and holding onto it with the other, I walk up the spiral staircase up to my room. Shower time!

* * *

"Owen! I need one of your miracle hangover cures," I hop down the stairs, all clean and ready to take on the day. After I get my miracle pill.

"Haze, you don't get one of these every time you down a bottle of hypervodka."

"_Half_ of a bottle. I think."

"And two cases of beer," Jack inputs.

"Jack! Not helping!" I shout back.

"No, Hazel."

"You're right, Owen. I get _two_, not one. Hand it over."

"Hazel, you can't have _two_ of these every time you get drunk."

"Jack! Make him give me the damn pills!"

"Owen! Do it!" Jack orders. I smile sweetly and innocently at Owen, following him down into the med bay.

"Boss's pet," he grumbles, digging through drawers and cabinets.

"_Hungover_ boss's pet. Magic pills, aspirin free, please."

Finally finding the bottle of magic miracle pills, he screws the white cap off and hands me two brown capsules.

"Thank you, Owen," I beam, swallowing them dry. As soon as they're in my system, I feel immediately better. "Jack! Let's go kill something!"

"You're a violent child, aren't you?"

"I'm a _very_ violent child," I correct the human doctor, bounding out of the med bay. "Hi, Tosh! Hi, Gwen! Where's Jack? Jack!"

"Who's that?" Gwen asks Tosh.

"Hazel. Jack's 'niece'. Haze, try his office," Tosh suggests to me, which is exactly what I do.

"Jack Harkness!" I shout, going up the staircase. "Get down here!"

"When did she get here?" the Welshwomen questions.

"Last night, after you went home. Been here the whole night."

"How... old is she?"

"No idea. She's a time traveller, so we keep meeting out of sync."

"She's been here before?"

"Yeah, but before your time."

"Jack bloody Harkness!" I scream.

"Goddess, you're loud!" he emerges from his office and walks down the stairs right behind me.

"I know. I'm bored! Let's do something fun today. Something not boring. Something very not boring but very not-not fun," I bounce off the step and onto the floor. "We should go Weevil hunting."

"Weevils don't come out until after dark."

"Dammit!"

* * *

After a successful round of Weevil hunting/capturing-for-Owen, Jack, Owen, Gwen, and I drive back to the Hub, where I accidentally left my mobile.

"Tosh! Has my mobile gone off at all?" are my first words when I make it inside.

"No, should it have?"

_"Incoming Skype call-"_

"That's for me!" I dart over to her desk. "Toshiko Sato! Give me my mobile!"

"Why, who is it?"

"Don't give it to her, Tosh!" Jack rushes in, taking it from her and holding it high.

"Jack! Give me the damn mobile!" I hold my arm up, causing him to raise it higher so I can't reach.

"No way! You're too excited about this. Should I answer it?"

"_Don't_ you _dare_!" I jump, trying to grab it to no avail.

"Ha, ha, do it," Owen encourages.

"You both _suck_! Jack Harkness, if you do not give me that mobile phone, I'll shoot you!"

"Empty words!"

"Yeah, and you're gonna have an even _emptier_ head!"

"I think I'm gonna answer it."

"I'm not kidding!"

_Fuck._ "Hello?" he answers with an exaggerated tone.

"Give me my mobile!" I shout.

"Would you shut up, I'm on the phone!"

"My phone!"

_"Is this a bad time?"_

"No, Dean, stay! Just give me a moment. Ianto!" I call for him. "Make Jack give me my mobile!"

"I'm not scared of him, shortstack."

"You will be when I get him to hide your booze and put you on decaf."

He deliberates it for a moment, but decides it's worth it, because he keeps talking.

"So, Dean, is it? What are your intentions with my Hazel?"

"_Your_ Hazel? Dean, forget what I said, I'll call you back! Hang up!"

"Don't you dare!"

"Jack! I wasn't kidding! I'll bloody shoot you!"

"No, Haze, you won't, now shush."

"Jack, give the poor girl her mobile," Gwen laughs.

"Yeah, Jack, do what Gwen said and give me the damn phone!"

"Hazel, Gwen isn't the boss of me. I'm the boss of me."

"Ianto! Control him!"

"Ianto isn't here right now!"

"I've got it!" Tosh cries victoriously from atop a desk chair.

"Tosh, I will _fire_ you unless you give me that phone."

"Sorry, Jack," she laughs, handing me the coveted treasure and giving me time to escape into my room.

"Next time I say 'hang up', I mean hang up!"

_"Hey, don't get all mad at me, princess._ You're_ the one that let your phone get stolen."_

"I didn't 'let' it get stolen, he's taller than me!_ Everyone's_ taller than me!"

Dean just laughs.

_"Damn, its good to see you, Haze."_

"Why, didya miss me while you were sleeping?"

_"Dude. You're freakishly warm. It's hard not to miss you."_

"That's because I run at about one-hundred-three Fahrenheit. I'm hot."

_"Can't argue with ya there."_

"I'm going to smack you!" I laugh at his audacity, plopping onto my bed. "So, what's goin' on in Concrete?"

_"Rain! God, what's up with the frickin' rain?"_

"That's not what I meant, Winchester."

_"Alright, fine. Frickin' insane wishing well. Happy?"_

"Wishing well?" I question sceptically. "Are you drunk?"

"No! Seriously, Haze, wishing well is magically granting everyone's wishes."

"Well, it's not _magic_. Maybe someone put something in the well. Like, a voice recognition atmospherical inhibitor. Or a pressure-induced atmospherical inhibitor. Maybe a combination of both."

_"I understood absolutely none of that."_

"A pressure-induced voice recognition atmospherical inhibitor is a device that is activated by pressure. Whoever activates it makes a request, in your case such as, 'I wish I had a thousand dollars.' It rearranges the atoms in the atmosphere and gets you that thousand dollars."

"Interesting. How do I stop it?"

"Pull it out of that well. Easy as that. Should come out easily, then destroy it. They're not very strong."

_"Thanks, Haze."_

"No problem. Let me know how it goes, yeah?"

_"'Course. Got to go. I'll call you later."_

"You better. Bye, Dean."

He hangs up, and I walk out of my purple room and back downstairs.

"Jack! I'm gonna kill ya!"

* * *

"Jack, I need a favour," I ask him a few days later, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

"What kind of favour?" he asks, eyes not shifting from the paperwork on his desk in his office.

"I need my vortex manipulator fixed. Damn thing keeps shorting out on me."

My uncle looks up at me, and, seeing the puppy dog doe eyes, breaks.

"Hand it over. Let me look at it."

I smile and unstrap the thing from its permanent place on my left wrist, and hand it to him. He pops the back off.

"What'd you do, have an orgy inside here?"

"Jack!"

"I'm kidding. Seriously, though. What'd you do to it? The scatter plotter's shot, motherboard cracked; how does this thing still work?"

"Sheer willpower and sonic screwdrivering."

"And duct tape," he tears the strip out of there.

"Can you fix it?"

"Gimme a couple hours and I'll see what I can do."

* * *

"Well?" I ask when he emerges from his office four hours later.

"I _think_ I fixed it."

"But?"

"I haven't taken it for a test yet."

I smile. "I'm sure it works. I trust you."

He looks at me with an indescribable emotion in his eyes and a fake smile on his face.

"May I have it?"

"Yeah, just... stay safe?"

I breathe sharply out of my nose and my smile grows.

"I promise. I'll even come visit."

"You better," he threatens, wrapping me in a hug. "It gets boring without my favourite niece to entertain me."

"Oh, is _that_ all I'm good for?" I lean back with a playful glare.

"Pshh, you knew that already."

"Yeah, I did," I laugh. He kisses the top of my forehead.

"Love ya, squirt."

"Love you, too, Uncle Jack." He hands me my vortex manipulator and I strap it to my wrist, tightening it so it doesn't fall off.

"Hey!" he interrupts as I start to programme the coordinates (not coordinates, but a person so I can find my boys), date, and time in it. "Call me when you get there, yeah?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Cross my hearts, hope to regenerate."

"'Atta girl."

"Give the team all hugs from me."

"And if Ianto lets me, I'll kiss him for ya, too," he winks.

"Don't worry. You two will work yourselves out. It'll take some time, but you'll work out and your team will trust you again. Trust me," I beam, "I'm a time traveller."

And with that last statement, I watch his smile grow and his eyes crinkle, and disappear.

* * *

With a flash of dark blue light, I appear in what looks to me like an abandoned storage barn. In between two different groups. One: Sam, Dean, and a redhead woman. Other: two creatures I haven't seen in seventy years.

"Hello, boys. Lady I don't know."

"Well, it took _you_ long enough!" Dean throws his hands up in the air.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I turn, accusatory glare on him and my arms crossed. "_You're_ the one that stopped calling me!"

"Can you two take your relationship problems someplace else?"

"Oh, _can it_, Uriel!" I snap. "I am _talking_!"

"You know this douchebag?" Sam accuses.

"Not by choice," I scoff. "There are nice angels, mean angels, and then there's _him_. Just plain rude. Haven't changed since I last saw you, huh?"

"You seem... familiar," Castiel studies me.

"I should! Just because the outside's a bit different, doesn't mean the inside's changed. Seventy years, it's been for me. 'Course, it's probably been longer for you. Taking the slow path an' everythin'."

Recognition glows in his eyes. "Cara."

"Yeah. I actually go by Hazel, now, though. It's good to see you, Cassie."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. How do you know these dicks with wings?"

"Dean, be polite," I reach up and smack the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Their dad," I point to them, "can't stand my dad," back to me, "'interfering' with 'his' planet. So, every Earth millennium, we'd take the TARDIS an' say 'hello'. I've only been twice, but every time I went, I'd hang out with the angels. God forbid I listen in on business," I scoff. "Gabriel took a shinin' to me, so I'd hang out with the angels he trained, which is where I met Cassie and stick-in-the-mud-Uriel."

"Which shouldn't have happened," Uriel fumes.

"Ha! You're just jealous that you were on the recievin' end of one of Gabe and my pranks!"

"Pranking?" Sam asks sceptically.

"Not all angels are so borin'," I roll my eyes. "So, back to business! Two questions. One: who is she? Two: what are you doin' here?"

"Better question. How did you find us?"

Cassie tilts his head towards Dean minutely.

"Dean?" Sammy questions.

"I'm sorry," he looks to the girl.

"Hold up! Who the _hell_ is she?" I interrupt.

"Her name is Anna," Dean explains, still looking at her. "The angels want her."

"Want her for... what? Cassie, you better explain this to me, r_ight_ now."

"We don't have to explain _anything_ to you, _mutt_," Uriel disses me.

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not talking to the likes of _you_, shitface."

"Okay, that's enough," Cas gets in the middle of Uriel and me, just like always.

"No way! Your new best friend called me a mutt!"

"I said _stop_, Hazel, and I meant it."

I back up cautiously, my arms crossed.

"What the hell happened when I was gone, Cassie?" I cock my head to the side curiously.

"Centuries," he says bluntly, and I feel as if my once best friend has died, and something I don't like has taken his place.

I turn back to my boys and Anna.

"Why do they want her?" I ask.

"Because I disobeyed," she explains. "So they gave him a choice. They either kill me, or kill you," she turns her head towards Sammy. "I know how their minds work."

I look at Cas with horror in my eyes. Uriel smirks, and Cassie remains still. _Now I know._

Anna puts her hand on Dean's arm. "You did the best you could," she assures him. "I forgive you." She lets him go and starts to walk towards the two angels, and Dean keeps his eyes on her. "Okay. No more tricks. No more running. I'm ready."

She is incredibly brave. Stupidly brave.

"I'm sorry," Cassie apologizes.

"No," she denounces. "You're not. Not really. You don't know the feeling."

"Still, we have a history. It's just-"

"Orders are orders. I know. Just make it quick."

_Facing her own death while showing no fear. Admirable._

"Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head," a voice on the other side of the barn orders. I whip my head over to see the man and two others holding up a woman I also recognize.

"Hell bitch," I acknowledge.

"Time bitch," she frowns.

"Who else do you know?" Dean accuses.

"I only know her because she killed me," I defend. "She didn't do a good enough job, though."

"How dare you come in this room," Uriel walks towards them, and Dean yanks me back towards the side wall, "you pussing sore?" The two henchmen throw Ruby onto the ground.

"Name-calling," the head demon in charge accuses.

"Who's that?" I whisper to Dean.

"Alastair," he answers.

"That hurt my feelings," Alastair continues, "you sanctimonious, fanatical prick."

"Turn around and walk away now," Cassie orders.

"Sure. Just give us the girl. We'll make sure she gets punished good and proper."

"You know who we are and what we will do." Cassie walks towards the demons. _Damn. So much testosterone._ "I won't say it again. Leave now, or we lay you to waste."

"Think I'll take my chances."

It's like a standoff, the angels waiting for the demons to make their move and vice versa. Until Uriel moves, grabbing one of the henchmen and shoving him in through a wooden post. Cassie moves to Alastair and punches him a few times before placing his palm across his forehead.

"Sorry, kiddo," Alastair smiles evilly. "Why don't you go run to Daddy?" The demon brings his arms up and shoves Cas to the ground. Uriel exorcises the one he was working on, and Alastair grabs the lapels of Cas's jacket. _"Potestas inferna, me confirma,"_ he says.

I turn to Dean. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

He picks up a tire iron. "If it's bash Alastair's head in, hell yeah." And he does exactly that.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," Alastair looks at him. "I am so disappointed. You had such promise." And then, using his demonic powers, starts to choke my boys.

"Ah, ah, ah," I warn, pulling out my sonic pistol and charging it up. "I wouldn't."

He turns his hand on me, but I do not fall.

"What are you?"

I take aim. "Time Lord." _Dramatic, just like Dad._ And I shoot him.

"Ah!" he cries out, releasing my boys.

Anna breaks a glass vial on a chain, and light blue mist surrounds her and enters her.

"Shut your eyes," she orders. "Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes!" I do what she says and she screams, wind billowing everywhere, knocking me to my knees.

And then it stops.

"Hey," Dean says gruffly. "You okay?"

"'M fine," I reassure him. "You? Sam?"

"We're good," Sam tells me.

"Would you-would you look at that," Ruby coughs as she tries and succeeds to stand. "Time bitch has a boyfriend."

"Can I shoot her?"

"No," Sam declines. Dean picks up a knife off the ground and looks at Cassie.

"Well, what are you guys waiting for? Go get Anna," he says. "Unless, of course, you're scared."

"This isn't over," Uriel makes his way towards us, and I raise my gun to his chest.

"Never shot an angel before," I smile deviously. "Wonder what would happen when the sonic energy vibrated through your poor little vessel."

Cas pulls him back and out of my aim, and I lower my gun.

"Oh, it looks over to me, junkless," Dean places a hand on my shoulder to restrain me.

"Bye-bye," I wave with my free hand, and they're gone.

"You okay?" Sam asks Ruby.

"Not so much."

"What took you so long to get here?" Dean asks.

"I want to know why she is here," I cross my arms after pocketing my gun.

"Still have some hard feelings, time bitch?" she cocks her head.

"Dean, if you want her to live, don't let go of my arm," I warn, and he tightens his grip.

"Well, sorry I'm late with the demon delivery. I was only being tortured."

"Serves you right, hell bitch."

"Easy, Haze. Now, I gotta hand it to you, Sammy. Bringing them all together, all at once- angels and demons. It was a damn good plan," Dean smiles.

"Yeah, well, when you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass," Sam smiles wryly, "best to get out of their way and let them fight."

"Yeah, now you're just bragging."

"So, I guess she's some big-time angel now, huh? She must be happy... wherever she is."

"I wanna know one more thing," Dean turns me around. "What took you so long? It's been a week."

"_You_ stopped calling me," I accuse. "It's been _days_ since I heard from you. _Either_ of you," I turn my glare on the younger Winchester. "Freaked out, got my uncle to fix my vortex manipulator and zapped my way over."

"Aw, did ya hear that, Sammy?" he claps his brother on the shoulder. "Hazelnut over here missed us."

"Don't call me that," I warn.

"Aw, how sweet," he plays along.

"I'm gonna smack you both."

"Nah, you like me too much, sweetheart," Dean smiles before grabbing me in a hug.

"Let me go!" I start laughing.

"Mmm, not quite."

"No, seriously, Winchester, let me go! I've gotta make a call." I dig my mobile out of my pocket and dial Jack's number, which goes to voicemail.

_"This is Captain Jack Harkness, leave a message."_

"Hey, Jack, it's me. Um, so, yeah, I died. The vortex manipulator broke and I became scattered into atoms across the atmosphere... Just kidding! I'm alive and very not dead. That heart attack you just had? Revenge. Don't take my mobile next time! Anyway, I'm with the Winchesters now, an' I promise to never stay out of trouble. I'll talk to you soon. Bye, Jack." I hang up the mobile and shove it back in my jeans pocket. I relax in Dean's embrace and hug him back, my smile a mile wide.

* * *

I let Dean and Sammy have their moment and walk away from the Impala and to the side of the building, where Cassie is waiting for me.

"What happened to you, Cassie?" I ask him.

"I grew up," he says simply. "You have not. You are still a little girl."

"Sorry to have to tell you this, but I gave up my pigtails and overalls a long time ago. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Then we both have changed."

I nod and lean against the building, one foot on the ground, one on the wood.

"The Winchesters have become attached to you," he tells me, "Dean especially. And a lot of things have happened recently for them."

"Like what?"

"Dean was in Hell."

I turn to look at Cas and only see blunt honesty.

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

"But, that doesn't make any- how?"

"He made a deal to save his brother."

I turn my head away and look at the dirt. _That explains why his Time signature was off._ "How long?"

"Four months up here is forty years down there."

"So... you're saying that... he was _tortured_?" _Like me?_

"Yes. For thirty years, by Alastair. The last ten, though, he did the torturing."

"How did he get out of there? Was it you?"

"Yes. A legion of angels and I. But, I have to know, Cara. Does this information change the way you feel about him?"

"Of course not, Cassie. Who do you think I am?"

"I just had to make sure," he defends, and I catch a quick smile on his face before his features stiffen. "I must go. If you need me, call me, and I will come."

"Bye, Cassie," I smile at him. "And thanks for telling me."

With a fluttering of huge wings, he vanishes from my sight. So I walk back to my boys, a plan in place.

"Hello," I smile. "My name is Hazel. I'm a Time Lord. I have two hearts, and a habit of getting into trouble. I can be completely crazy happy one second and pissed off the next. I'm a coffee addict. I love space. I can be mean, but I can be sweet. I can con people like nobody's business. But I can also be scared, and not show it. I have nightmares. Among my people and those who know me extremely well, I'm considered a child because of my age. I can't be killed easily. I'm short, ginger, and I have a temper. But I'm also loyal. I can be bluntly honest if you ask me to. I shoot first and ask questions later. Humans, your timelines are so short compared to mine. I've seen things you wouldn't even begin to believe or comprehend. I can't promise a lot, but I can promise you this: when you need me, I'll be there. So, with that all on the table, I was wonderin'. May I travel with you and go hunting?"

"Well," Dean wipes his eyes. "I'll have to confer with Sammy-boy here, but-"

"Of course, Hazel," Sam smiles at me. "You're better at managing Dean than I am."

"Hey!"

"Seriously, this one, _huge_ pain in the ass since you've been gone. He was tense, on-edge, irritable, I could go on."

"Sam, I'm gonna kill you."

"Aw, did you miss me?" I smile at Dean. "That's very sweet, Dean. Sam, can you do me a favour? I think I left my sonic screwdriver in the barn, can you go get it for me?"

Sam catches my subtle wink and complies.

"Sure. I'll be back."

As soon as he's out of sight, I climb on top of the hood of the Impala so I can look into Dean's eyes.

"You look at me, Dean Winchester, and you listen to what I'm about to say. I don't give a flying fuck about what happened or what you've done. All I care about is right here, and right now. And I care about you." I bring my hands to his face and wipe his tears away with my thumbs. "You're here, with me, right now, and that's all that matters."

"Did you listen in?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

"You asked me not to, so I didn't," I reassure him. "Cas told me."

"God, I'm gonna kick his fucking ass-"

"Look at me," I order softly, and he tilts his head back up. I take the beer from his hand and set it on the roof of his car. "I don't care about that, Dean. Nothing you can ever do will make me hate you, got it?"

"Just wait," he lowers his eyes. "Somehow, someway, I'm gonna fuck this up, too."

"Do you really think so low of yourself, sweetheart? Because that makes me sad. Why can't you see how wonderful you are?"

"I'm not 'wonderful', Hazel. I'm gonna hurt you. Why can't _you_ see that?"

Drawing up all the knowledge from all the romance movies I've seen, the only effective way to shut a man up is to kiss him. So that's what I do. With the hands I have framed around his face, I bring him closer and our lips touch once, twice, three times.

"You aren't gonna drive me away that easy, Winchester."

With his own hands, he brushes the red hair out of my eyes.

"Do you promise?" he asks, hope that he isn't allowing himself to feel in his eyes.

"I _swear_," I reassure him.

He smiles. "That's all I needed to hear."

And he kisses me. And it's perfect. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I taste the alcohol on his breath. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in, taking everything that is Dean Winchester and enjoying every second of it.

And then he pulls back and I open my eyes, my blue ones gazing into his green ones.

"Wow," he breathes.

"You're tellin' me," I smile breathlessly. "That was the first time I've been kissed."

"Seriously?" Dean asks sceptically.

"Yeah," I nod. "Do it again."

His smile grows. "With pleasure."

* * *

TBC

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**Good enough action for you, **giddyfan**? ;) Don't forget to review!**

**Also, I'm in the process of rewriting some of these chapters, because I can. And looking back, I'm just not happy with them. I could be more descriptive, and could use a beta (if one would like to offer his/her services. or not, either way. i have someone i can guilt into doing it). So, a new chapter may be far away.**

**I got accepted into the online school! Downside is I have to make up everything from September *grrrrrr*. So a new chapter might be _very_ far away. So sorry.**

**Episodes that have been remade into awesomeness are in order as follows:**

**Yellow Fever (SPN), Nightmare in Silver (DW), mentions of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (TW) (very barely-there mentions), mentions of the whole Year that Never Was debacle (once again, barely-there) (Utopia, The Sound of Drums, and Last of the Time Lords, DW), tail end of Heaven and Hell (SPN).**

**Songs mentioned so far (if you were curious):**

**Highway to Hell by AC/DC, Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade, Habits by Tove Lo, This Is How We Do by Katy Perry, Don't Stop by 5 Seconds of Summer, and Bloodstream by Ed Sheeran. (I think that's all of them anyway:D)**

**The iMacTab is what I imagine Apple will come out with (or should anyway) in response to the Windows Surface tablet and any other tablet computer. Basically it's a iMac operating system on an iPad. And a m card is like a button or a circular 3-D sticker (rather small) that you can stick on the white/black part surrounding the screen of the tablet. m cards can hold whatever you want them to, up to 2 TB (mega huge non technical people. like a whole computer backup).**

**Review with any questions, comments, or 'omg i love it!'s!**

**love alyssianagrace**

**Updated on Oct. 20, 2014**


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